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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27137725">Do as I Say (Not as I Do)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Le_kunokimchi/pseuds/Le_kunokimchi'>Le_kunokimchi</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Prancing Around Insanity's Lot [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Umbrella Academy (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - No Sparrow Academy (Umbrella Academy), Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dubious Consent, Gen, Ghost Ben Hargreeves, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Klaus Hargreeves Whump, Klaus Hargreeves-centric, Possession, Post-Canon, Post-Season/Series 02, Protective Diego Hargreeves, Unreliable Narrator, ben doesn't go into the light</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 20:41:03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>28,939</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27137725</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Le_kunokimchi/pseuds/Le_kunokimchi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Klaus is not a bad person compared to the Earth's entire population, he is not even a bad person compared to everyone in the Hargreeves family (it would be hard to top Dad); but compared to Ben, he is the worst person in existence. Compared to Ben, he is an idiot. Compared to Ben, he is a failure. </p><p>To fall is a relative term and when his family looks at their (very limited and isolated) time with Ben and at their time knowing Klaus… it is clear who has fallen from grace and who has risen to greatness.</p><p>It is clear that, relatively, he could have done so much better. </p><p> </p><p>OR</p><p>"I heard a rumor," He desperately tries to cover his ears but it's to no avail; his irises slip into a milky white, "that you do whatever Ben tells you to do."</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Allison Hargreeves &amp; Klaus Hargreeves, Ben Hargreeves &amp; Klaus Hargreeves, Diego Hargreeves &amp; Klaus Hargreeves, Klaus Hargreeves &amp; Everyone, Number Five | The Boy &amp; Klaus Hargreeves</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Prancing Around Insanity's Lot [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1779967</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>205</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>813</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Fics where the Hargreeves siblings live in the Academy together</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. We Fall Until the Ground Swallows Us Up</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>SO, a little disclaimer before we start:<br/>Allison, Ben, Diego, Klaus, all of them... They are not bad people. I'm not bashing on characters or making them look bad, k?<br/>Allison is not evil: she just wants what's best for Klaus and honestly thinks this will help him.<br/>Just like Ben is not evil for possessing Klaus without consent and breaking the rules they agreed on.</p><p>Everybody makes mistakes, the Hargreeves especially, and Klaus is by no means an angel either so just keep that in mind before assuming that Allison is the worst sister in existence or that Ben is selfish or that Diego is insensitive lol</p><p>This story is a learning experience for ALL of them. So, with all that said, enjoy~</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>To fall is a relative term; to two worker bees, one may have fallen out of favor with the queen because she began reproducing with the other more; to a bear, one may have fallen a level in the predatory hierarchy following the creation of the spearhead; to a person, one may have fallen two steps on the stairs because the other is still three steps ahead. Now whether you fell down and scraped your knee is not the question (if you are sitting on the ground with blood oozing from your skin, <em>you</em> <em>slipped and fell no doubt</em>), it is on a more philosophical level that falling, failing, rising, and climbing are relative.</p><p>Because relativity is based on perspective and perspective can mean the difference between flop or fly.</p><p> </p><p>To the worker bee, he is no longer needed; to the queen, she never had a preference and he just happened to be available. To the bear, he dropped lower on the food pyramid; to man, he did not drop, we just simply rose. To a person, making it one step up was a huge accomplishment because <em> they never thought they could get there </em> ; to the other, making it <em> one </em> step wasn't all that special because <em> they made it up three and three is better than one.  </em></p><p> </p><p>Success is relative, accomplishment is relative, rising is relative. Just like failing, flopping, and falling is relative. </p><p>Are you the glass half full or half empty kind of person? Perspective. </p><p> </p><p>To Klaus Hargreeves, he has accomplished <em> a lot </em> . He has been sober for three years, he is <em> still alive </em> , he can use and <em> control </em> his powers… that's more than he had three years <em> ago, </em> that's more than he has had in his entire life. He has made <em> great </em> progress. He has grown and developed, lived and learned. He has <em> changed </em>. </p><p>But to everybody else, he is <em> still </em> drinking. He is <em> still </em> narcissistic. He is <em> still </em> not using his powers, <em> still </em> scared of his powers. He <em> is </em> Klaus from three years ago just minus the heavy narcotics constantly coursing through his system. He has made <em> minuscule </em> progress because they have made <em> more </em>progress. He has lived (but for how much longer?), he has grown (into nothing more than a fraud and manipulator), he has changed into merely a sober version of his chaotic self (which, in reality, is not too different). </p><p> </p><p>One step to their<em> three</em> steps. </p><p>All relative, but in their eyes, all the <em> truth.  </em></p><p> </p><p>Minus the '60s meant minus the <em> physical </em> changes (like the mansion and cult) so it was easy to ignore that any are there to begin with. </p><p>He <em>fell</em> behind (he has <em>always </em>been behind) and everyone kept going into better versions of themselves while he is still sitting at the checkered starting line. </p><p> </p><p>Maybe he had just gotten back from a <em> different </em> (and possibly longer) race before sitting there, maybe he had <em> already finished </em> and they just didn't <em> see </em> him; it's all perspective.</p><p> </p><p>And in his family's eyes, he is the person who never changes and never gets better; he is the person always two steps behind (even if he never thought he could get to the <em> first one </em> to begin with). </p><p> </p><p>And since they never thought about what's behind the curtains, the struggles <em> beneath </em> the surface, he will never be relatively better than them or more <em> successful </em>than them. </p><p>But that same philosophy can be applied in the juxtaposing sense: somebody that they never <em> saw </em> mess up, somebody that never wronged <em> them </em> or betrayed another blatantly in front of <em> their </em> eyes meant that that person <em> did no wrong </em> . They are <em> perfect </em> : a good example, a responsible example, be like them, listen to <em> them. </em> </p><p>They never mess up which means that they <em> always </em> know best in <em> every situation.  </em></p><p> </p><p>Klaus is not a bad person compared to the Earth's entire population, he is not even a bad person compared to everyone in the Hargreeves family (it would be hard to top Dad); but compared to Ben, he is the worst person in existence. Compared to Ben, he is an idiot. Compared to Ben, he is a failure. </p><p> </p><p>To fall is a relative term and when his family looks at their (very limited and <em> isolated </em>) time with Ben and at their time knowing Klaus… it is clear who has fallen from grace and who has risen to greatness.</p><p> </p><p>At first, it was no credit for the one-stepper because he wasn't a three-stepper; now it's no credit for the one-stepper because if he <em>followed </em>the advice of a <em>five-stepper </em>(yes, his family had a ghost <em>that </em>high on their pedestal) he could have been a three-stepper too. Relatively, <em>he</em> <em>could have done so much better. </em></p><p> </p><p>But after all the time Klaus has spent with Ben, seeing Ben, hearing Ben (being nagged by Ben), he can attest that his brother is by <em> no means </em>perfect. He can attest that Ben has led him astray more than once and has made mistakes.</p><p>And that's okay because Ben isn't the biggest screw-up around relative to all of the <em> many </em>screw-ups Klaus has met (he has never expected Ben to be perfect, quite the contrary actually). </p><p> </p><p>But his family hasn't experienced what he has; they thought Ben compared to them made him the perfect one, and if that made him perfect then Ben compared to<em> Klaus </em> made him a frickin saint. </p><p>And the medium, of all people, knows how much ego can go to one's head when people are worshipping you as a <em> holier than thou </em>(prophet) angel incapable of leading anyone astray. </p><p> </p><p>And over time, his family (and Ben's one-sided view on Klaus's many life decisions… well more like fuck-ups at this point…) may have given the ghost a small God complex.</p><p> </p><p>And while Klaus knows that Ben doesn't <em> always </em>know best, nobody else did (not even Ben himself). </p><p> </p><p>So when Vanya told their family about how Ben, in a sense, possessed her and saved her (and technically the world Klaus will begrudgingly admit) the idolizing of Ben grew from angelic to messiah-like. (And you can imagine how Klaus went from merely a one-stepper to just the crud that was stuck on the bottom of the five-stepper's shoe that fortunately got scraped off sooner than later). </p><p> </p><p>All the accusations, the hate and threats that he got, the <em> How could you lie to us about Ben being there, Klaus? </em> 's and the <em> What the fuck is wrong with you, Klaus? </em> ’s and the <em> You're so selfish, Klaus </em> 's fell on deaf ears as he noticed his ghostly brother's <em> all too smug </em> look on his face. </p><p> </p><p>It was the silent <em>I told you so</em>'s and <em>Maybe you should have listened to me'</em>s and <em>Do you feel satisfied now that they all hate you</em>'s that bothered him. And that crack in their relationship since Ben's death went from a crevice to a gap in those three years and then a gap to a <em>ravine </em>in that <em>single week. </em>There was no more love in their love-hate relationship; just bitterness, just spitefulness. </p><p>And now that everyone knows that Ben is there with them, Klaus had nothing over him (<em> absolutely nothing </em> ). But Ben had <em> everything </em>over him; Messiah sees all, knows all. </p><p> </p><p>The medium tried his best to avoid interacting with his brother; when his family asked (demanded) him to make Ben corporal, he usually went in the other room. He just couldn’t look at him for too long; it got difficult and feelings of guilt or hurt would take turns using his consciousness as a nuclear testing ground. He might literally blow up on someone with the plethora of emotions and unspoken trauma bottled within him. </p><p> </p><p>Tonight was no different but he couldn’t exactly escape this time; they wanted <em>everybody’s</em> <em>favorite brother </em>to join the family dinner and, sure, Klaus could lie and say that Ben wasn’t available at the moment or that he was<em> too tired to use his powers right now</em>, but nobody would have believed him. Well, they never really believed him much before but now there is no thought of <em>Klaus might be telling the truth</em>. In their eyes, if he had a second superpower it would be lying; he was incapable of being honest even if <em>he actually told them true things a lot of the time and they just chose not to believe him. </em>He doesn’t <em>always</em> lie, he often just omits the truth; he tiptoes around it and hopes they get irritated with him enough to drop the topic. But now he was just a lying, deceitful, manipulator (but isn’t everybody that at least once in their life?) who took advantage of and neglected <em>poor sweet little innocent Ben</em>.</p><p> </p><p>He has fallen out of favor with his family. </p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“It’s good to see you again, buddy,” Diego greeted warmly as Ben became visible in his seat at the table. (The medium <em> almost </em> rolled his eyes enviously; nobody was ever <em> that </em> happy to <em> his </em>face. When was the last time Diego even smiled at him?)</p><p> </p><p>The ghost looked ecstatic. “Likewise.”</p><p>(Come to think of it, when was the last time Ben even <em> genuinely </em>smiled?</p><p>
  <em> “I hate your face” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I hate all of you.” </em>
</p><p>He shivers and shakes off the unwanted memory). </p><p> </p><p>“Would you like some dinner, Ben?” Luther asked politely, holding up a filled ladle of the soup he made earlier.</p><p>“Thanks for the offer but the dead can’t eat.”</p><p> </p><p>There was an awkward pause; the medium fiddled with his spoon. </p><p> </p><p>“Why don’t you just possess Klaus? God knows he could use the extra plate of food,” Diego suggested in that sharp but humorous manner he does when regarding the medium more often than not (passive-aggressiveness was honestly worse than just being plain mean in Klaus’s opinion because they seemed to think that he was too stupid to catch on). </p><p> </p><p>His blood goes cold, he stares at his bowl of half-eaten food, and his stomach flips (no brother dear, he’s not so hungry anymore, thanks for <em> asking </em>). </p><p>He doesn’t dare look at his dead brother: he’s scared of what he might see in those dark eyes.</p><p> </p><p>“I would love to but uh- I supposedly got my possession card revoked; he doesn’t like it.”</p><p> </p><p>Klaus felt all eyes land on him for a brief moment; he squirms in his seat. How could they just talk about him like he wasn’t sitting right there?</p><p> </p><p>Luther’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Why?”</p><p> </p><p>At this, Ben huffed a laugh and the medium knew immediately that no good could come from this conversation (Ben didn’t know about how it felt to be the one having his conscious shoved deep into the recesses of his own being; Ben didn’t know how it felt to watch yourself <em> do </em> things you literally had <em> no </em> control over; Ben didn’t know how it felt to try and rise from the claustrophobic depths just to have the other person at the driver seat <em> deny </em> you your body and push you even <em> further </em> into the dark muck. For Klaus, it was all his worst fears in one; but Ben wouldn’t know that, would he? <em> “I regret nothing.” </em>No, no he would not). </p><p> </p><p>“He doesn’t like me making decisions for him,” Ben explains dryly, an all too wry smile on his face as his pining gaze lands on the medium for a moment before looking at their biggest brother, “He doesn’t seem to trust my judgment.”</p><p> </p><p>That is only<em> half </em> true <em> . </em>But maybe if he pretends that he can’t hear them, they’ll forget he exists and eventually drop the topic (he knows the ghost won’t be so easily suaded). </p><p> </p><p>Diego barks what is so supposed to resemble a sardonic laugh, pointing his spoon at Klaus with raised brows, “<em> He </em> is worried about the decisions <em> you </em> will make? You’re more responsible and level-headed than he’ll ever be; if anything, you being in his body would be an <em> improvement </em>!”</p><p>“Right?” Ben agrees quickly and eagerly, making Klaus shudder in the betrayal, “All I wanted was to eat an orange and talk to some people that <em> weren’t </em>my asshole brother and he got his panties in a wad about it.”</p><p> </p><p>That irked Klaus beyond his vow of silence, hissing weakly, “You broke the rules.”</p><p>“Like you’ve never kissed a girl before,” Ben dismissed, rolling his eyes, “You fuck everything that walks; I doubt anything I did could have tainted your already <em> oh so innocent </em>soul.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“Wait you got mad at him because he was with that girl?” Diego questioned incredulously, “You would have been doing the same thing if you were with her instead. Hell, you might have had a guy added to the mix as well.”</p><p> </p><p>Under his breath, Ben adds, "Or another girl and not even tell me…"</p><p> </p><p>Klaus crumbles, the steam he had previously left him in an instant. They saw no problem with the consent issues that violated? Fine. He’s just overreacting. It’s <em> all fine. </em> It’s not like there were <em> other </em> problems and rules broken (like <em> not </em> getting his body back, like Ben checking what’s beneath the belt <em> despite explicit instructions not to </em>). It could have been worse, right? He could have cut his hair… at least he didn’t do that, right?</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t understand, Klaus,” Vanya says softly, looking at him with an odd form of pity, “Why don’t you trust Ben?”</p><p> </p><p>“Especially since he’s probably the only reason you’re alive right now…” Five muttered under his breath, sipping a margarita detachedly. </p><p> </p><p>He was the center of attention again (and, as he quickly learned in the ‘60s, that was something he most certainly <em> didn’t </em> desire anymore), even Ben’s eyes were peering at him in a simultaneously smug <em> and </em> curious way. </p><p> </p><p>“Ben’s not me,” he replied flatly, cryptically. They didn’t deserve an explanation; they wouldn’t even truly listen to it if he gave one. As they so clearly established earlier, they don’t <em> trust </em>his word so why ask him such a pointless question? </p><p> </p><p>“Clearly,” Diego scoffed, “If places were switched, Ben wouldn’t have lied about you being there.”</p><p><em> Debatable. </em> If their positions were switched, would Ben even interact with him to begin with? Would Ben even share that he could see his dead brother? Why would he though: he and Ben were only close post mortem, only close when he had no one else to talk to. At the academy, it was all about Ben, Vanya, and Five; the even number club existed on very limited occasions and sure he still loved his brother just like he loved all the rest of his siblings but there was never a reason to interact beyond the rest of the family interaction time. Ben was naive as a kid, eager to please, and Klaus, as he has always been, was a manipulative hustler so it wasn’t hard to wheedle things out of Ben and to gain his favor. But Ben is by no means the same person as he was before (would they believe Klaus if he said he wasn’t too?) and liked to manipulate and guilt-trip (pulling the dead card) to get what he wanted too. Nobody in this family is perfect, not even the <em> dead </em> one. </p><p> </p><p>“Come on, Klaus, just let him possess you this one time. All he wants to do is eat.”</p><p> </p><p>He wrings his hands beneath the table, refusing to meet any of their eyes. “How do I know that he’ll ever leave?”</p><p> </p><p>“We’ll make sure he does,” Allison says with a hopeful smile.</p><p> </p><p>He blanches. “Like <em> that’s </em>supposed to assure me; Diego literally just said he prefers Ben!”</p><p> </p><p>Diego stabs his knife into the table, shouting, “I only said that because you’re such a selfish asshole all the time! Just let him eat with us; what’s the worst that can happen?”</p><p> </p><p>Many things. <em> So many things. </em> Things he will have no control over; things that he may have never done if given the chance; things that are dictated by a person who hasn’t lived in a very long time and didn’t know what being <em> alive </em> really entails anymore; things that could be done without <em> affecting </em> him because he can just <em> leave </em> whenever he wants to with no sense of suffering from the collateral damage he caused. Humans can get sick, humans can get so anxious that they throw up; ghosts can just leave before they <em> have to feel anything. </em> Possession was like the mother of all hangovers and Klaus should know; he has <em> a lot </em> of unpleasant experiences to compare it to. </p><p> </p><p>Ben gives him an imploring look, hands clenching and unclenching at his side like he was getting ready to jump right into his body.</p><p>Fear rises within him as flashbacks flood his brain and he shakes his head vehemently. </p><p>“If you come anywhere near me, I’m finding the nearest dealer.”</p><p>Ben frowns, coldness in his eyes. “Low blow,” he mutters. </p><p> </p><p>That comeback stings some; they used to say it when they still cared, <em> before </em>everything went to shit. It was a <em>Hey I know you just insulted me harshly but no hard feelings </em>and the other would smile sarcastically and add <em> Said with love. </em>That unspoken agreement no longer applied.</p><p> </p><p>“But if you go back on drugs, you won’t be able to use your powers until you’re sober again,” Luther says with a confused scowl.</p><p>Five face-palms and hisses, “That’s exactly why he said it, you idiot.”</p><p> </p><p>“You can’t go back on drugs if Ben doesn’t let you,” Diego warns with a baleful twinkle in his eyes, “He can touch you now, he can possess you whenever you try.”</p><p>Allison scowls, shooting him a scolding glare. “Diego, no-” </p><p>Klaus doesn’t waver though, cutting in venomously, “Then I’ll banish him like I do all of <em> your </em> ghosts, <em> brother dear </em>.”</p><p>Their sisters and Luther looked at him like he just uttered the unforgivable; distraught alarm was apparent on all of their faces. Diego was completely outraged and Ben had gone very still. </p><p> </p><p>“You wouldn’t dare-!”</p><p> </p><p>“Both of you shut up,” Five snaps, “Nobody is possessing anybody (dinner is already cold), nobody is going back on drugs, and nobody is fucking banishing our brother; all the bickering is making me want another three drinks and I already have a headache. Now, if you excuse me, I have some more important business to attend to. Klaus, help Allison clear the table and do the dishes for Mom. The rest of you can go about your pointless days.”</p><p> </p><p>He blips out of the room but is only gone for a mere second before he is reappearing in his chair to add, “Oh and it was nice seeing you again, Ben.”</p><p>Ben smiles and waves even though Five had already left again. </p><p> </p><p>Everybody follows; Klaus goes to release his grip on Ben’s corporeality but Diego claps the ghost on the back and begins a conversation before shooting the medium a threatening look that said <em> Go ahead, try to make him disappear; I dare you </em>. </p><p>Klaus glares at his brothers and sighs, flipping them off with a blue finger before turning to do his assigned nightly chore.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>“It’s just not fair, Allie. He always expects me to just drop everything for Ben and never even wonders about how I feel about it,” Klaus rants as he scrubs at a stubborn stain on a plate, Allison packing away the leftovers somewhere behind him. </p><p> </p><p>“I don’t know, Klaus; you know how Diego gets with Ben. Just look at his funeral: he was snapping at everyone because, deep down, he was blaming himself for not being strong enough to protect him.”</p><p>“That doesn’t make it <em> right </em> ,” the man hisses, “He’s being an asshole because I don’t wish to be violated <em> again </em>.” </p><p> </p><p>Allison falls quiet, closing the fridge. He turns to look at her, feeling the hesitant gaze on him.</p><p> </p><p>“Why… Why do you consider it violating?” She asks with an expression of reluctance, her brow slightly furrowed in thought.</p><p> </p><p>He faces the sink quickly, giving a half shrug. “He’s like a trespasser on my most valued property: <em> my own body. </em>”</p><p>“But he’s your brother-”</p><p>“He’s <em> dead </em>,” Klaus makes sure to emphasize, tone flat and guarded, “The dead don’t belong in the living.”</p><p> </p><p>He hears a small huff from his sister. “The dead don’t belong on the physical plane in general yet you can bring him here; nothing about your powers is exactly normal. He died so young… Don’t you know how hard it must be for him to be here but not <em> really </em>here?”</p><p> </p><p>His lips press into a thin line. He doesn’t want to be having this conversation; he doesn’t want to hear another Ben sob-story. The train to the pity party left a long time ago; he bought his ticket late and there were no more seats left when it was time to depart. He waited at the station for its return but the trip was long and grueling upon the five paths of grief; by the time it came back, time and drugs had already sealed the wound and he was no longer obliged to attend. And if he isn’t forced to do something, is it really that important?</p><p> </p><p>“He gets more from me than any other dead person does. That should be enough in itself.”</p><p> </p><p>“He’s still your brother, Klaus-”</p><p>“Would you let him possess you if the tables were turned, my lovely sister? Would you like someone to strap you to the back seat and put a gag in your mouth as they take your car for a joy ride and all you can do is <em> watch? </em>”</p><p> </p><p>She bites her lip, her body saying something different than her voice: “Yes. I trust Ben; I know he does everything with my best interest in mind. He’s my brother, why would he put me in harm's way?”</p><p> </p><p>Liar. She’s a liar. She’s such a dirty, rotten, no-good liar. Acting was her specialty, manipulating her calling. This conversation was pointless to begin with; they’re already too whipped for <em> the innocent routine. </em> She’s just trying to seem better than him, trying to seem like the <em> good </em> example and the <em> good </em> person; if her <em> sweet little brother </em> wanted something from her, she’d give it to him because she wants to be a <em> good </em> sister. But it was always easier to say something than to actually follow through; she knows that no harm could come from this measly hypothetical. Unless Ben really could possess their other siblings like he did Vanya; but the last time he jumped into a body other than Klaus’s, he was merely transported to her mind and nearly lost his soul to the vacuum-like light (if Klaus didn’t call him back, he would have been <em> gone. Forever. </em> A “Thank you” would have been nice…). The ghost refused to risk it again; it was a matter of <em> life or death </em>last time, after all. </p><p> </p><p>Klaus frowns. “He’s not perfect, you know. He isn’t. None of us are.”</p><p>“He doesn’t have to be perfect; he’s a good person, Klaus.”</p><p> </p><p>The medium groans and runs a damp hand down his face. “Look, Allison: I’m not denying that Benny is a good person. I <em> love </em> him just like I <em> love </em> all of your <em> irritating faces. </em> But that doesn’t make me hate possession any <em> less </em>.”</p><p> </p><p>She comes up from behind him and places a comforting hand on his back; Klaus stiffens. </p><p>"I guess I just don't understand," Allison says, her eyes soft with pity, "I don't see any reason <em> not </em> to trust him."</p><p>The man tries to wiggle away from her touch but the hand lightly grasps his shoulder to keep him in place. </p><p>He mumbled, "As I said before, he's not me-"</p><p>"You're right, he's not, but don't you ever wonder… what your life could have been like if you listened to him?"</p><p> </p><p>He didn't like that tone; he eyes her cautiously. </p><p>"No. I don't."</p><p>"And why is that?"</p><p>"Because the only person who knows what's best for me is <em> me. </em>"</p><p> </p><p>"And you think lying to us was the best choice? You think being on drugs and drinking and clubbing and living on the streets for the majority of your life was the best choice? You think creating a <em> cult </em>was the best choice?"</p><p>He doesn't reply, just staring at her in the reflection of the window (something wasn't <em> right </em>, his skin is crawling; her tone was getting more and more accusing). </p><p> </p><p>"Nothing forced you into making those decisions and I'm sure there was at least <em> one </em>person in your life that tried to dissuade you from each."</p><p>"People make mistakes," he mutters, a voice screaming in his head to run away. He's done with the conversation; he would like to leave. </p><p>She moves closer to him and gives a slight frown. </p><p> </p><p>"But those mistakes could have been avoided if you would learn to listen to people once in a while, if you would learn to trust a person's judgment when they are constantly giving it to you."</p><p> </p><p>He attempts to squirm out of her grasp but her arm encircles his torso in a side hug, placing her chin on his shoulder.</p><p>"Allie..." he whispers warily.</p><p>"You know what I think?"</p><p> </p><p>He's holding his breath, he doesn't know why but he is. </p><p>She continues softly, "I think you would be so much better off, so much <em> happier </em>if you would just listen to Ben's advice. He knows you better than you know yourself; it would be in your best interest."</p><p> </p><p>His hands grip the counter in front of him tightly. </p><p> </p><p>"No, he doesn't. Death clouds your judgment-"</p><p>"I think you should give it a try-"</p><p>"If you don't let me go right now," he breathes in warning, "Then I can promise you guys won't be seeing him for <em> awhile. </em>"</p><p> </p><p>She smiles sadly, eyes meeting his own in the reflection; his stomach flips in dread. </p><p>Allison mutters, "I thought you might say that… But, fortunately-"</p><p>"Allison, please don't-"</p><p>"I heard a rumor," He desperately tries to cover his ears but it's to no avail; his irises slip into a milky white, "that you do whatever Ben tells you to do." </p><p> </p><p>He stares at the window for a few moments, his mind kind of hazy and legs unsteady. He turns to fully look at his sister with an expression of horror and betrayal. "H-How could y-you..." </p><p> </p><p>She takes a step back, her face an unwavering mask of guiltlessness. "It's for your own good. Besides, I heard a rumor that you forgot about this conversation."</p><p> </p><p>Allison leaves Klaus standing at the sink, eyes vacantly locked on the window. </p><p>He sees his reflection staring back at him, nothing but his reflection. </p><p> </p><p>Tears begin to roll down his cheeks and he has a vague desire to rip out his hair... but he can't, for the life of him, remember why.</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. We Get Angry Until We're Sick in the Head</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>He's just sick (with what? He's not sure), but surely some sleep will make him feel better.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This chapter is fewer descriptions more dialogue because we're getting into the pastry-filling of the story.<br/>~Enjoy and the warnings of dubious consent and (very mild) self-harm come into play</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It had to be a little past 10:30 pm when Ben felt the post-mortem chill slowly creeping back into him; he looked up apologetically at his brother and Diego just awkwardly waved his goodbye before sauntering off to God knows where. </p><p> </p><p>Unfortunately, Ben wasn’t really done talking yet (he was just getting to the good part of the new book he was reading for crying out loud) so he thought that maybe, if he’s lucky, he could talk Klaus’s ear off about it or give him a hard time if he ignores him. He knew that Diego wasn’t really interested in anything the ghost had to say about the novel but at least he feigned paying attention; the medium would tune him out apathetically without a second thought. </p><p> </p><p>Standing and brushing off his incorporeal lap, Ben made his way to the kitchen, halting for a moment as Allison passed through the hallway to keep his sister from phasing through his body (it always made him uncomfortable). </p><p>She moved quickly with pursed lips but the ghost didn’t think much of it, understanding that it was probably difficult to hold a conversation with the stubborn ass they call a brother for such a long time with no one else to claim a portion of his concentration and be subjected to his idiotic commentary (he of all people should know after spending seventeen years stuck in his side like an irksome thorn, nobody else knowing of his existence for the majority of it and then being denied communication for the rest).</p><p> </p><p>Klaus doesn’t notice him as his silent feet pad along the hardwood floor (well he didn’t expect the man to hear him but normally he could sense his presence and made it <em>too </em>obvious that he did while still trying to play it off that he didn’t. Honestly, it’s no wonder the ghosts always know that Klaus can see them: his acting is not exactly phenomenal, nor is the intense flicker of his gaze subtle). The man is standing over the sink, a hand firmly gripping either side of the edge and torso impossibly straight with his neck slightly craned. It was an odd posture, to say the least; Ben assumed that he would have been slumped over in exhaustion, whining about a headache and nausea as a result of overexerting his powers (it was a plausible inference as to <em>why </em>the ghost lost his <em>real boy </em>status in the first place) but that definitely didn’t appear to be the case. </p><p> </p><p>He grits his teeth in frustration; he was just messing with him now, <em> trying </em>to be spiteful. And to think that Ben was <em>almost </em>sympathetic; <em> tragic.  </em></p><p>“What: no puke slip-and-slide this time? No <em>moon-splitting headache </em>or <em>hands shakier than a boat full of jello </em>?” he questions flatly, his tone harsher as each reiteration of one of the man’s excuses flowed from his mouth like trickling streams down a mountain of thawing snow. He was curious to see what kind of half-assed explanation his brother was going to pull from his rabbit-hat of tricks this time (if he even bothered to reply at all; sometimes he settled on rolling his eyes or hissing or flipping him off or just walking away with a string of incoherent mumbles uttered beneath his breath for no one but the voices in his head to hear). </p><p> </p><p>Klaus doesn’t reply, doesn’t even flinch. Ben crosses his arms and leans his back against the counter, casting him a sideways glance. The medium’s hazel eyes were focused solely on the window; they were watery and had a thin haze clouding his irises. He appeared completely absorbed in his thoughts with his bottom lip sucked between clenched teeth (never a good sign in Ben’s opinion: Klaus stuck in his head meant a relapse). </p><p> </p><p>“Well? It’s always dangerous for you to be thinking this long; I’m sure there’s another reckless or stupid idea brewing in that mucky brain of yours.”</p><p> </p><p>Still no reply. Ben moves a little closer (he wonders, for a brief moment, if Klaus could see his reflection in the window). “You brought all of this on yourself, you know that, right? I don’t get why you’re taking it out on me.”</p><p>He notices the vaguest tracks of dried tears mapped on his brother's cheeks. Was he thinking about Dave again or something?</p><p> </p><p>Ben huffed and gave him a pointed look. “Stop ignoring me, Klaus,” he snapped.</p><p> </p><p>Immediately, Klaus’s eyes come to focus; his head whips to face him at a perilous speed that made even the ghost slightly wince. “Oh, hi,” the man breathes in an octave higher than usual, “What’s up? Did Diego finally get tired of hearing your pretty little voice?”</p><p> </p><p>The ghost raises an eyebrow. “No… You cut off the energy supply and I faded.”</p><p> </p><p>Klaus’s forehead wrinkles slightly, glancing down at his hands in confusion. “I did?” he asked himself in an incredulous whisper, “I don’t remember…”</p><p> </p><p>Ben frowns subtly, suspicion in his tone, “Are you-”</p><p>“I guess my subconscious was trying to tell me something, then! Well, I’m off to bed; if you have any care left for me in that cold dead heart of yours, I’d appreciate it if you kept a distance of ten feet at all times. I would rather not be possessed by my sleep paralysis demon, thanks,” the man says with a sharp and sweetless grin, his eyes gleaming in an antagonistic manner as Ben shuts his mouth and gives him a hard glare. </p><p><br/>
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</p>
<hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p>Something was off; he could feel it. His memories of the night before were quite fuzzy; had he been drinking? He doesn’t recall and there is no hangover this morning to point him in the right direction. </p><p>What happened after dinner? Why were his hands pruney when he only remembered washing one plate? Why did he feel compelled to stare at that window in the hope to see something? It was all very strange and if Klaus didn’t know any better, he’d assume that he had a bad trip last night. </p><p> </p><p>He drags himself down the stairs and into the kitchen, an odd sense of nervousness washing over him every time he hears someone behind him. Pulling out a mug, he pours himself a cup of coffee and leans against the counter; the taste was bitter and disgusting but Five, the little bugger, refused to buy him creamer.</p><p>Perhaps some bourbon or whiskey would make it a tiny more enjoyable. </p><p> </p><p>He tugs his trusty flask from the small space between the wall and the loose cupboard, finding himself freeze momentarily as Diego’s gruff morning voice assailed his ears.</p><p> </p><p>“Drinking already?” he tsked, grabbing an apple and rinsing it off in the sink.</p><p>Klaus gives a wry smile and cheekily replies, “Is there ever a wrong time?”</p><p> </p><p>His brother rolls his eyes and Klaus goes to give another witty remark but finds the will to speak vanish as he hears, “Good morning, Klaus. You’re up earlier than usual.”</p><p> </p><p>He subconsciously grips the mug a little tighter, turning to his sister with a genuine smile despite the panic suddenly bubbling in his stomach. “Well, you know, the early bird gets the w-worm.” Did he just stutter? Why are his hands shaking?</p><p>Out of the corner of his eye, Diego is peering at him curiously.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m glad you’re feeling productive,” Allison said, smiling at him.</p><p>The stretch of her lips makes his skin crawl but he swallows down the unsettling feelings because this is his <em>sister. </em>Why is he feeling this way? Perhaps he’s just anxious this morning; maybe he got less sleep than he thought. </p><p>His brow furrows ever so slightly as she warmly squeezes his shoulder, asking, “Everything alright?”</p><p>He nods but the desire to run away remains. </p><p> </p><p>“Just… a little under the weather this morning. Nothing to worry about.” He tries to give her an assuring look despite his feet having minds of their own and shuffling a little closer to Diego. </p><p>Her smile falters a bit and he instantly feels sick. “Well, I hope you feel better. I’m going to go back to LA for a few days to see Claire. Try not to get into any trouble while I’m gone, okay?”</p><p> </p><p>He squeaks as she pulls him into a hug, barely having enough time to set his cup of coffee on the counter before he’s squashed against her chest. She holds him there for two seconds before he squirms free and utters, “Have a safe trip,” as his hands swipe up the mug and flask to make a hasty retreat. </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p>Klaus collapses into the chair with a relieved sigh, using the warmth of the mug as an anchor to reality within the drafty dining room.</p><p>A content hum vibrates in his throat as he once again unscrews the cap of his flask to add a wee bit of buzz to his bitter caffeinated drink.</p><p> </p><p>“Really? Have you no shame?” A voice exasperatedly questioned.</p><p>The man throws a hiss at the ghostly brother sitting next to him. “You <em>know</em> for a fact that I <em>don't</em>. If I wanted your <em> lovely </em>presence this morning, I would have said so.”</p><p> </p><p>“Too bad you can’t banish me, hm?”</p><p> </p><p>He juts his lip in faux pity, “Aw did I hurt somebody’s feelings yesterday when I made that little comment? Afraid that I don’t like you enough to ever call you back?”</p><p> </p><p>Ben just crosses his arms and scowls at him. </p><p>Klaus smirks in satisfaction, pouring a good amount of whiskey into his mug. </p><p>The ghost’s nose wrinkled. “That’s a lot…”</p><p>“Good thing it’s not for you.”</p><p>“Don’t drink that; you’ll be drunk before noon.”</p><p> </p><p>“Last I checked, I do what I-” his expression falls, eyes staring at his hands as they push the mug away from him, “...want.”</p><p>Ben appears surprised; Klaus frowns in confusion. </p><p> </p><p>He tries to reach for his coffee concoction but each time he gets close enough to grab it, there’s a strong urge in his mind telling him not to. He fights the pressure building quickly in his head, clenching his jaw as he aggressively tugged the mug towards him.</p><p>Muscles straining and hands shaky with exertion, he brings the cup to his mouth and tips but his lips never part and the hot coffee pours down his chin and into his lap. </p><p> </p><p>He gasps at the hot liquid stinging its way through his pants, flying up out of his seat and staring at the mug with wide eyes. Ben had sprung back as a knee-jerk reaction but now appears puzzled by the look of bewilderment on the medium face. </p><p> </p><p>Their eyes meet for a split second before Klaus is immediately turning away, the sense of discomfort returning and the coffee forgotten as he scrambles upstairs to his room.</p><p> </p><p>If he really is sick, maybe some more rest will do him good.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p>“They’re calling you for dinner.”</p><p> </p><p>The man rolls over, muttering, “No, they are calling <em> you </em>for dinner.”</p><p> </p><p>If this situation had occurred four years ago, give or take, a comment like that wouldn’t have been made. Nobody would have expected their dead brother to be sitting at the dinner table. Nobody would have openly judged Klaus for being drunk or high (knowing that it was inevitable and probably the one <em>consistency </em>in their life). Nobody would have cared if he didn’t show up. Nobody would have cared if he had hissed to empty air, nobody would have cared if a pillow went flying at seemingly no one, nobody would have cared if he cursed, spat, and snarked at no one but himself. </p><p>Nobody would have cared about him, but now they do. Not because <em>of </em> Ben, but <em>for </em>Ben. Because if they want Ben, they have to begrudging deal with Klaus.</p><p>And Ben would have denied it if it did come up in their earlier days: he would have sworn up and down that their family loved Klaus just as much as they did him, that they cared about his well being and would be there to support him in any way, shape, or form. Ben would have asked him if he was <em>ok, </em> if he wanted to <em>talk about it</em>. People would have cared about him because Ben told them off, told them to be better; they would have been a package deal because they were two peas in a pod, not an ant stuck in a pool of honey.</p><p><br/>
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</p><p>“Make me corporeal so I can sit with them, then.”</p><p><em> No, I don’t feel like it </em> . “Okay.” <em> What? </em></p><p>Ben brightens, his eyebrows raised. “Wait, really?”</p><p> </p><p><em> No. No. No. </em> The words don't come from his mouth, his hands ignite into a pale blue. <em> What the fuck? </em></p><p> </p><p>"Oh uh, do I tell them that you're not feeling good or-?" Ben asks kind of giddily, already at the doorway but pausing with a hand on the handle. </p><p> </p><p>Klaus is still staring at his hands in confusion, shaking them in an attempt to <em> 'turn his powers off'. </em> He felt like he was holding blue glow sticks: the shaking just made it brighter. </p><p>The medium distractedly mumbles, "Yeah, sure; whatever," before clapping his hands, pinching his arms, burying his fingers in the blankets, and squeezing his palms between his thighs; just willing the annoying glow to go away but it stubbornly persists. </p><p> </p><p>Maybe he's sick, maybe he's really sick and it's affecting his powers. </p><p>With a loud huff, he gives up and curls in tighter on himself; maybe they will fade if he falls asleep.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p>"I don't think alcohol being the first thing in your stomach all day is a wise decision," Diego advises as Klaus wanders down the stairs to the liquor cabinet late into the night.</p><p> </p><p>"And wearing kinky leather straps while being a vigilante crime fighter is?" The medium asks, hopping down to the floor, "Have you tried just seducing the bad guys? You'd be surprised how many people get turned on by-"</p><p>Diego hisses, "Shut up. You're frickin exhausting."</p><p>"And awesome. And wanting a drink. So, if you excuse me~"</p><p> </p><p>Klaus smiles as his brother shakes his head and leaves for the night, making the man <em>mostly </em>alone in the room.</p><p> </p><p>"He's right. You're an idiot."</p><p>He groans in frustration, flipping Ben off as he pulls out Daddy's favorite scotch. "Just fuck off, Ben. In case you haven't noticed, I don't want to be around you."</p><p> </p><p>"Trust me: if I could leave, I would," the ghost snaps, "But we're stuck with each other so you're going to have to deal with it."</p><p>Klaus frowned. "I am <em> dealing </em>with it."</p><p>"By drinking yourself sick every day? That's not dealing with anything! Dave is gone, our family <em> knows </em>I'm here now: why can't you just accept that?"</p><p>"You know <em>nothing </em>about Dave, you know <em>nothing </em>about what it's like to lose <em>everything again and again and again! </em>" Klaus shouts (all it took, all it <em>ever </em>took was one name), slamming the bottle on the counter, "Just shut your mouth and leave me alone!"</p><p> </p><p>"You can't make me."</p><p>The medium laughs in a jarring pitch, a wild twinkle to his eyes. "I can," he breathes, "I can and I will."</p><p>"You won't," Ben sneers, "You're pathetic. Even <em>if </em>you did, you'd call me right back. You need me."</p><p> </p><p>The wolfish grin that spreads across Klaus's face makes his features even sharper in the dim light of the moon, teeth appearing fang-like and green eyes practically gleaming in balefulness. "I need <em>you</em>? If anything, you need <em>me. </em>"</p><p>"You'd be dead without me-"</p><p>"And you're only alive<em> with</em> me," he takes a step forward, the ghost remains planted in place, "The thing is, Benny dear, is that <em>I don't need anyone</em>. I can take care of myself; I always have. Relationships, bonds, <em>friendships</em>: they're all <em>disposable. </em>People are selfish and greedy; that's the <em>rules of survival. </em>It's in our <em>nature. </em>So why, exactly, should I care about little Casper and his desire to be Pinocchio for a few hours a day? Why should I care when <em>nothing he does benefit me</em>? Why should I care when the only thing <em>you </em>care about is <em>yourself</em>?"</p><p> </p><p>"Klaus, who do you think you're fooling right now?" Ben attempts to question calmly, but the medium can see the nervousness in his posture and hear the slight quiver in his voice, "You, more than anyone, don't want to be alone in the dark and afraid. You <em>need </em>attention. You <em>need </em>people. You <em>need </em>touch and affection and bonds and somebody to hear your own <em>vexing </em>voice. You need someone to remind you that you're alive and not just another one of the spirits that you're surrounded with every day."</p><p> </p><p>"But I don't need to be betrayed."</p><p> </p><p>Ben's glare falters, his mouth opening and closing as Klaus's expression morphed into one of hatred, more hatred than the ghost has ever seen on his brother's face before.</p><p> </p><p>"And if having people in my life, letting people <em>in, </em> getting <em>attached </em>and <em>valuing </em>their happiness more than my own <em>means </em>getting double-crossed by the one person I trusted <em> more than anyone </em> … Then it's not worth it. It's not worth the hurt. I've had enough pain in my life already, the last thing I needed was for it to be from my <em> entire </em>family."</p><p><br/>
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</p><p>Ben appears sullen, the anger subsiding to a deeply ingrained bitterness.</p><p>Klaus looks away, satisfied with the silence, and deflates as he grabs the bottle like a lifeline. </p><p> </p><p>Anger and hatred weren't easy emotions to feel. They required a lot of effort on his part; <em> only </em>talking to certain individuals, <em> avoiding </em>the person like the plague, constantly having to scowl and remind yourself that you're mad and steaming through the ears. It was a lot of <em>work </em>that he'd rather not deal with. It was <em>so much easier </em>to just brush it under the rug and forget it ever occurred. It was so much easier to forgive and forget and go on with your life as karma takes care of the person who wronged you.</p><p>Klaus doesn't <em>do </em>anger; he'd prefer the flippant (or merciful) approach any day. He's slightly ashamed that he let Ben, of all people, get to him like this; he's ashamed that he was bothered enough to retaliate with the <em>same emotion that the dead called their domain. </em></p><p>Anger makes you do and say crazy things, it makes you go in blindly spewing the venom you've held deep down; it's called going <em>mad </em>for a reason. </p><p> </p><p>So when he decides that he's done showing such a <em> nasty </em>emotion, he dissociates from the commotion around him (the <em>people </em>around him) and leaves with something to numb the feelings away.</p><p> </p><p>But Ben doesn't like being dismissed, nor does he like being made the enemy in any given situation (Klaus knows that he is not an angel but for God's sake just let him be the victim just this <em>one </em>time). </p><p>"Just go back to bed," Ben mutters, "We'll talk about this when you're not drunk."</p><p>"Drunk? I haven't had <em>anything </em>today. Fate keeps ripping the relief from me in some way or another," he states incredulously yet his feet start guiding him to the stairs. <em> Well, I guess I'll be drinking upstairs then? </em></p><p> </p><p>"You need sleep, then. Sleep it off. Leave the bottle."</p><p>There's a thud as the scotch drops from the chair to the floor and rolls away from his feet. Klaus's eyes dart to it in an instant, apprehension consuming his features. <em> Why did I drop it? Why can't I go back to it? Why am I still walking towards the stairs?  </em></p><p>"I-I want to drink," he whispers fearfully to himself, his legs beginning to carry him up the steps, "W-Why is <em> my </em> body not <em> l-listening </em> to me?!"</p><p> </p><p>He looks from the bottle to Ben, seeing the pleased expression on his face once again. He hates it, he hates and looks forward robotically. </p><p> </p><p>Why does he feel so compelled to lay in bed right now? Going to sleep seemed nice. Not drinking seemed nice. He needs to sleep it off, he needs to rest so they can talk about it in the morning. </p><p> </p><p>He crawls into his bed, turns on his side in the same position as earlier, and suddenly feels bone-chilling exhaustion seep into his entire body.</p><p> </p><p>He's sick, just very sick (sick of Ben?)</p><p>He'll fall asleep; some rest will do him good. He'll feel better in the morning (And, much to his horror, the thoughts don't even feel like his own). </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>In a way, I wanna say that both Ben and Klaus needed this; but, then again, this is REALLY messed up. What's a little lack of free will between brothers?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. We Scream in the Dark Until the Door Unlocks</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>He didn’t want to be thrown into a confined, dark room as punishment: Ben leaning against the door to keep it shut as he frantically tries to pull and push and beat his way through. There was nowhere more haunted and dark than the mind, after all.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Warnings: dubious consent, referenced rape/non-con, self-harm, swearing, and referenced torture</p>
<p>Isn't it fun hurting Klaus?</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>The sink water feels very cold as it washes over his knuckles; the plate feels even colder. It is ceramic, he has eaten off the pearly white plate before, yet it resembles cardboard in his hands. It’s flimsy, it bends and contorts under the stream of icy liquid; his fingers sink into it as he grips the back with one hand and scrubs it with the sponge in the other.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Swish, swish, swish. The stain isn’t coming off. Swish, swish, swish. The plate seems to be disintegrating around it. Swish, swish, swish. It is just one impurity, a mere mark ruining the perfect image; how hard can it be to remove a single stain? Swish, swish, swish. All of the rest of the plates don’t look this way; all the rest of the plates aren’t behaving in such a manner. Swish, swish, swish. He feels somebody watching him in the window. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>His gaze lifts and there is nothing but a dark form with a gleaming white smile. He smiles back, the warmth radiating from the shadow a familiar one that he can’t quite place. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>He’s confused as to why this thing watching him isn’t raising any sense of alarm; he’s even more puzzled by the fact that he opens his mouth and says, </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>“You’re a liar.”</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>He feels the slightest brush of fingers ghost over his shoulder. </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>"And why is that?"</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span> a recognizable yet muffled voice whispers.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>His hands are blue, his eyes stare holes through the window and the plate crumbles. </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>"Because the only person who knows what's best for me is me."</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>“I think you would be so much better off, so much happier if you would just listen-”</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Klaus, wake up.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The man sits up instantly, his expression alert yet mind still fuzzy with sleep.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“ ‘m awake. Shush, ‘s too early,” he slurs, body swaying as he removes one of the hands propping him up to run it through his hair.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s noon, moron. Get up.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Out of bed the medium goes, blindly stumbling through blankets and flailing his hands a bit to catch his balance. He was in nothing but a robe and his underwear, lids droopy as he slid on a pair of pants that have carpeted his floor for over a week. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s gross; when was the last time you did your laund-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He shoots Ben the dirtiest glare he can muster, squinting and lip curled splenetically. “You’re dead; shut the fuck up.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The ghost’s nose wrinkled at the spiteful tone. “Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning…” he muttered. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And someone thinks I still need to hear his opinion every day. I thought I made it very clear that</span>
  <em>
    <span> I don’t need you</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Ben sputters as he throws his limbs in the air in annoyance, “Just forget about last night! You weren’t thinking clearly-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“For the last time, I wasn’t-!” His face goes blank, something flickering in his eyes before he just stares at the ghost blankly. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Ben waits for him to finish but Klaus’s gaze is vacant and lost looking. Surely that’s a tell-tale sign that he’s hungover, right? Surely Klaus didn’t mean all the things he said to him and it was the alcohol doing the talking. Surely Klaus needs Ben (as much as Ben </span>
  <em>
    <span>needs</span>
  </em>
  <span> Klaus). “Don’t even try to tell me that you weren’t drunk,” the ghost mumbles bitterly, crossing his arms.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The medium’s brow furrows ever so slightly, mouth bobbing similar to a fish for a few moments before he questions in a slow manner, “...When?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The spirit deadpans. “Last night.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The briefest glimpse of panic flashes through Klaus’s eyes as he starts gnawing on his bottom lip, attention rapt solely on his brother like he was searching for something. “I-I d-don’t-” he stammers before releasing a huff and steeling his features, “I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about. Elaborate.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Ben’s eyes narrowed, raising an eyebrow. “The fight?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His mouth downturns. “What fight?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“So you </span>
  <em>
    <span>were</span>
  </em>
  <span> drunk!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Wait, we had a fight? Like a </span>
  <em>
    <span>fight-fight</span>
  </em>
  <span>? And I was </span>
  <em>
    <span>drunk</span>
  </em>
  <span>? When?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The ghost hissed, “Last night; we literally just established this. Are you even listening to me?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Klaus swallows roughly. “But I… I don’t remember drinking yesterday.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Ben didn’t look convinced, drawling unamused, “Nothing at all? ”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Sleep. I just remember sleeping a lot and-” his posture turns cautious, eyeing Ben with mixed emotions (he remembered being angry with him this morning; why can’t remember what it was about? Something is wrong, something feels horribly wrong. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“I thought I made it very clear that I don’t need you.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Just forget about last night! You weren’t thinking clearly-” </span>
  </em>
  <span>He is </span>
  <em>
    <span>definitely </span>
  </em>
  <span>not thinking clearly now. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Danger, danger, danger;</span>
  </em>
  <span> Ben knows something. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Run, run, run</span>
  </em>
  <span>. First Allison, now Ben? Is he just being paranoid?) He edged closer to the door. “Hey have you lied to me about something recently?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Ben stares in confusion; where the hell did that appear from?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No..?” he replies, nothing really coming to mind. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hm, I see,” Klaus opens the door, his hands clearly trembling. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just curious; t’is a simple question. I guess I drank so much I passed out last night or something,” the man shrugs but his eyes are darting like he wasn’t all that </span>
  <em>
    <span>okay </span>
  </em>
  <span>with the revelation. The ghost’s brow furrows deeply: Klaus didn’t bring the bottle with him last night nor was he drinking when the argument began. When did he find time to drink himself to sleep? He had gone up, dropped the scotch, and crawled into bed with a seemingly coherent mindset so why is he making a comment such as that now after being so adamant of the opposite?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“But you-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you smell breakfast?” Klaus gives a forced smile that resembles a double-edged sword, “Well, no, of course not because you’re dead... but I’m going to leave this room now and pretend that I’m not haunted!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A classic deflection technique but Ben falls silent; at least the medium was being honest. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He finds Klaus in the kitchen sometime later, leaning against the counter with a mango in his hand. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The ghost settles on the barstool, silently watching as the man plucks a knife from the wooden block and begins to rotate the juicy fruit in one hand while slicing off the skin with the other. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A few times, Klaus cuts too deep and curses as a bit of the flesh peels away as well; continuously, he grumbles at the piss-poor job and hacked up mango that would most surely be more pit than fruit by the time he is finished. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“That doesn’t seem like the smartest way to go about this,” Ben comments, eyes narrowing subtly every time the man’s gaze locks with the window rather than the task at hand.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Klaus rolls his eyes, "Oh please, you're just jealous that I can practically do this with my eyes closed. Remember when I cut up one of these babies like everyday sailing through the Caribbean?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Unfortunately, yes; I also remember you using a knife that was a lot smaller and duller than this one though," the ghost retorts, his tone critical and almost scolding as he crosses his arms.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The medium huffs a laugh. "Shall I get one of Diego's next time? Ever sharper and </span>
  <em>
    <span>scarier</span>
  </em>
  <span>?" He mocks, carelessly looking at his brother with a sardonic smirk.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"That's not funny, Klaus. If you don't pay attention, you might-"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Kill a mango?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm being serious-"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"And I'm not? I'll be called the mango murderer-"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Klaus-"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I don't even get why you're being a big baby right now; how does this have anything to do with you-"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I just-"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Don't want this possessable body to be less perfect than it already is?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"It's not like that-"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh, sure," the man rolls his eyes again with a wry smile, "Then what is it like?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Klaus, I swear-"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Go choke on Mussolini's dick or something, okay? I'm so done with your shit today-"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ben stands from the stool, hands flying angrily in the air as he shouts, "Fine! Stab yourself in the hand then: see if I care!"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Klaus goes to snort but an odd expression swam across his face; and in a split second, a glint of obedience fills his olive orbs before the knife raises and plunges into his palm. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Ben's eyes widen in astonishment at the pained yelp that erupts from the man's lips, both of their gazes whipping to the shining steel and darkening swirl of mango juice and blood dripping to the floor. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"K-Klaus?" The ghost mumbled, hesitantly taking a step towards his brother as the medium just stared at his hands with an unreadable expression.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They were shaking, more of the morbid cocktail dripping to the floor as the tip of the knife wiggled in the wound from the uncontrollable movement.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ben says a little more firmly, "Klaus."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Klaus flinches, the haze dispersing as he snaps to attention and rips the knife from his hand and chucks both it and the bloody fruit into the sink without a second thought. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The puncture in his palm is gushing now and Ben feels like he should do something but as he reaches his hand towards Klaus, the man immediately backs away. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He is planted in place now, his arms falling back to his sides; the look in Klaus's eyes makes the Horror churn in dread and Ben feels something drop within him as his heart simultaneously clogs his throat. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Did he do that on purpose to spite him? Or were they just truly unlucky and the timing of it all was entirely coincidental? Klaus seemed just as shocked as he was, though, and the way he eyed his hands in betrayal suggested that action was far from being intentional. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Their gazes meet and Ben opens his mouth to say something out of necessity but his brother immediately resorts to running out of the kitchen and the ghost can't help but remember that the last time Klaus ran away like that, it was because the love of his life had just punched him in the face. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Get away: that's the only thing that's going through his mind. Every corner he turns, every seat he takes, Ben is always there and something bad always happens. Something isn't right and voices are screaming in Klaus's head that his brother has finally become an omen just like every other spirit wondering this world and he wants to tell them they're wrong, he wants to believe that Ben is a good brother that would never do anything to put him in harm's way; but what the fuck just happened then? He feels cursed; he feels like Ben is a walking bad luck charm. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His blood runs cold every time his brother opens his mouth; he feels a weird hazing of his thoughts when he says certain things. He's not thinking straight and then when everything gets </span>
  <em>
    <span>even more </span>
  </em>
  <span>unfocused, his limbs start moving on their own. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He doesn't understand what happened earlier: he was fine, they were bickering (Klaus was being </span>
  <em>
    <span>very </span>
  </em>
  <span>passive-aggressive), and then suddenly Ben yells at him and his mind goes blank and he's stabbing his hand. And the only thought going through his head afterward is </span>
  <em>
    <span>why did I do that? </span>
  </em>
  <span>It wasn't even a small knick, it wasn't a slip of the hand. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>completely</span>
  </em>
  <span> plunged the knife into the tendon of his thumb </span>
  <em>
    <span>utterly </span>
  </em>
  <span>unbeknownst to him until the deep searing pain ripped through his palm and he could only cry out in surprise before staring at it in bewilderment. </span>
  <em>
    <span>What is up with him lately? Why is his body becoming his own worst enemy?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He stumbles into a small form, blinking twice as somebody growls at him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Watch where you're going, dumba-" Five stops and then Klaus is letting out a low hiss as his smallest brother yanks his hand towards him, "What the fuck happened to you?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Jesus, Five; let go, will you?" The medium grumbles, tugging his hand free from the boy's grasp, "I'm fine."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"No you're not; you are fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>bleeding.</span>
  </em>
  <span>"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Language, young man-"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Shut up, idiot. What the </span>
  <em>
    <span>hell </span>
  </em>
  <span>did you do? That looks pretty deep; did you piss Diego off or something?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Klaus smiles sharply, his expression cynical and attentive as he attempts to strike down Five with a few words to deflect the situation and escape. “No, I got in a tussle with the ghost of Hitler- It just </span>
  <em>
    <span>doesn’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>matter because </span>
  <em>
    <span>who gives a fuck that I’m bleeding? </span>
  </em>
  <span>There have been plenty of times where </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>have been covered in blood (whether your own or someone else’s) and I haven’t said a word about it </span>
  <em>
    <span>so you can just go about your pointless day</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Five’s eyes narrowed but, of course, he didn’t back down so easily, questioning in a suspicious manner, “Is Ben around? I wanted to talk to him about something.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The medium shivers but quickly decides that if giving both of his brothers something they want will make them leave him alone, then utilizing his powers at the moment seems like a reasonable sacrifice.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His wound tingles as a blue hue suddenly colors his hands, muttering curtly, "He's in the kitchen somewhere; knock yourself out." As he pushes past, he knows without a doubt that the ever-observant Number Five heard the bitterness in his voice and took note that the profusely bleeding puncture mark that had just increased its volume. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"You either have Vanya take a look at that or I will while you're sleeping, and you won't like it if it has to come to that," his brother warned before disappearing from the room and leaving Klaus to shake his head in annoyance as he continued to swiftly move down the hall (he can patch up his </span>
  <em>
    <span>own</span>
  </em>
  <span> wound; he doesn't need </span>
  <em>
    <span>anybody</span>
  </em>
  <span>). </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The silent treatment wasn't a new occurrence; Klaus enjoyed ignoring Ben quite often in fact. And, as a more recent development, he liked to avoid him too but that's a lot more difficult than it sounds when your brother is a literal ghost that can phase through walls. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It never lasted long (barely a few hours) before Klaus would eventually give in (or forget that he was mad in the first place) because he liked having someone to listen to his bizarre and fleeting thoughts; he liked being reminded that he was never completely alone despite his insistence that he didn't need anybody. He didn't hold grudges; Ben knew this, yet, whenever he and Klaus made eye contact, his brother quickly ducked out of the room without a second thought. Whenever he tried to speak, Klaus would cut him off halfway through in compliance without even knowing exactly what Ben was going to say. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Hey, make me-"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was corporeal in an instant. The man quickly leaves the room.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Could you tell me where-"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The man points in five different directions without looking up from his magazine.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The ghost scowls as he follows up with, "How is that supposed to-"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Diego: work. Five: room. Luther: attic. Vanya: apartment. Allison: LA." He sinks in the chair and buries his nose further into the page to hide from Ben's gaze. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"What are you doin-"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The man drops whatever activity he's engaged in and slips out to do something else.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Did you get your hand looked at-"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The man holds up the bandaged palm without a single glance and then he's gone. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Can we talk about what happened-"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The man springs up and darts.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Just for kicks, Ben one time suggested they tried possession again but Klaus didn't peep a single word, just paled and shuddered before scrambling out of the house and not coming back for hours. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Ben hates the silent treatment. Ghosts, in general, hate the silent treatment. But he does </span>
  <em>
    <span>especially. </span>
  </em>
  <span>And it's only him that Klaus is acting this way towards. He is at least snapping at Five or throwing jabs at Luther or hissing at Diego or smiling tightly at Vanya; Ben gets dismissed like he has many times before, but something is a little different this time. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This time, it's not on his own accord. This time, Ben is </span>
  <em>
    <span>trying</span>
  </em>
  <span> to engage. This time, there is no teasing or playful spite. This time, there are no drugs or drinks or dudes to blame. This time, he can feel that Klaus </span>
  <em>
    <span>means </span>
  </em>
  <span>it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The coldness is something new. The detachment is something new. Ben's </span>
  <em>
    <span>desperation </span>
  </em>
  <span>is definitely something new. Why is it that he gets ignored by the most easy-going and talkative member of the family? Why is it that the most trusting and dramatic and forgiving person in this entire timeline is the one avoiding him at all costs and seems on edge just sensing his presence?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Sure, Klaus has been wary of ghosts his whole life but never towards Ben. And, sure, the whole possession fiasco left Klaus a little more aware of his brother's actions, but he never </span>
  <em>
    <span>trembled </span>
  </em>
  <span>or </span>
  <em>
    <span>blanched </span>
  </em>
  <span>at the sight of his face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>(</span>
  <em>
    <span>"I hate your face."</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>"I hate all of you."</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>It was just spitefulness. It was just venom in the moment. He didn't mean it, they didn't mean it). </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p><span>There is no way that Klaus would ever be </span><em><span>fearful </span></em><span>of him. They've seen and heard too much; they are too (</span><em><span>reluctantly) </span></em><span>close; they have been together far too long. There has to be another explanation: Klaus doesn't </span><em><span>fear </span></em><span>anything except dark enclosed rooms and their father. He wouldn't fear </span><em><span>his</span></em> <em><span>own brother for crying out loud</span></em><span> and he has </span><em><span>never </span></em><span>shown any sort of hesitance towards Ben (even when he was alive; even when he was newly dead; even when he was soaked in blood from his own creatures; even when the rest of their siblings cowered or flinched at the slithering beneath his skin. Klaus never once treated him any differently and would just give an assuring smile. He never refrained from putting an arm around his shoulders, squeezing his knee under the table, or holding him close when his powers and the loss of Five became too much. Klaus can't hate him because he just </span><em><span>doesn't hate anyone. </span></em><span>Ben can </span><em><span>hate him </span></em><span>but it can't be the other way around, </span><em><span>ever. </span></em><span>It's just not possible.  Klaus loves everyone. Everyone, everyone, everyone; everyone except Reginald).</span></p>
<p> </p>
<p><span>He's going crazy. The silent treatment is driving him insane. It doesn't last this long, it </span><em><span>never </span></em><span>lasts</span> <span>this long. It's forcing him to reflect. It's forcing him to feel weary. (</span><em><span>Even on the streets, Klaus never treated you like this. Even in the '60s, Klaus never treated you like this. You've done something wrong, something horribly wrong. You thought you could keep pushing him away because you knew that he'd always come back; he brushes everything under the rug and turns a new leaf… but where has that got you now? He's finally tired of you</span></em><span>. </span><em><span>You've finally gone too far and you don't even know what, in particular, triggered it. What if he banishes you? Surely he wouldn’t... but how can you even be sure now?). </span></em></p>
<p>
  <span>He thought that he'd rather have any other member of the family over Klaus's company; he thought that he'd be happier if he'd have more than just his idiotic brother to communicate with. But now that he does, now that he has </span>
  <em>
    <span>everyone else</span>
  </em>
  <span>, why does he not feel satisfied unless he has Klaus too? </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He finally has his breaking point while they’re sitting in the living room on the couch; Ben wanders in to see the medium leaning upon their sister’s shoulder, giggling and playing with her calloused fingers after she took away his second bottle of wine. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Subtly, Ben sits criss-cross on the floor across from them (for once preferring to just listen and observe rather than actually being included). This is probably the closest he has gotten to Klaus in the last two days; he remains hopeful that his brother won’t pay him any mind and just continues chatting with Vanya like he wasn’t even there. He just wants things to be like how they were many years ago, just for a little while so he can pretend that he still has an excuse for Klaus’s disacknowledgement. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p><span>Ben leans on his hand, the smallest of smiles on his face at how happy his family looked (he hasn’t seen a genuine grin from the medium in a long time; he hasn’t seen him and Vanya </span><em><span>interact</span></em><span> in </span><em><span>a</span></em> <em><span>long time</span></em><span>). There was always a disconnect; while she was unincluded, he was disliked. He was considered to be part of the Umbrella Academy but he was the </span><em><span>least </span></em><span>favorite, the </span><em><span>disappointment</span></em><span>... only included because he had powers, not because he was useful or appreciated or </span><em><span>wanted</span></em><span>. They never talked much because of this: Vanya didn’t understand him and he didn’t feel it as necessary to understand her. They had so much in common yet were both jealous of each other for very different reasons. So the ghost treasures this bonding experience: his family really </span><em><span>looked </span></em><span>like a family. </span></p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But as soon as the soft moment began, it stopped in an instant. The laughter dies on Klaus’s tongue. His grin vanishes. His eyes are wide as they land on Ben and the full-body shiver right before he jumps up from the seat has the ghost frowning.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The look reminds Ben of something, of another time his brother has looked at him so sickly and apprehensive; of another time that Ben has sat criss-crossed only a few feet away with a hand on his chin and a smile on his face- oh God did Klaus think that he was about to </span>
  <em>
    <span>possess </span>
  </em>
  <span>him? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He flies up too, the room going silent as everyone looks at Klaus in surprise from his drastic change of demeanor. The medium gulps and turns away, quickly trying to make an escape.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Ben immediately sprints after him. “Klaus, I just wanna talk-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I have nothing to say to you,” the man rushes out, throwing open the front door to most likely book it down the street again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It wasn’t what it looked like, I swear; I wasn’t trying to-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I said I don’t want to talk to you!” he slams the door closed behind him, heaving as he scrambles down the steps. The ghost phases through the door with ease though and gets to the cement just as Klaus pushes the front gate.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Wait, Klaus! Hear me out!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The man freezes midstep, hands falling from the gate and clenching at his sides. Klaus was stiff, very stiff, but Ben breathes out in slight relief as he takes another couple of strides forward. As he gets closer, though, he can see his brother trembling again so he stops his advancement and decides that he’ll just speak louder.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I wasn’t going to possess you,” the ghost explains, his brow furrowed in frustration, “I wouldn’t do that without asking; I thought you knew that.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Do I?” Klaus mumbled, the muscles in his legs strained as if he was willing them to move forward but they refused to comply, “You have done it before.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But I wouldn’t do it again! Not unless we have a system or something!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A humorless snort cuts through the air and Ben’s jaw clenches. “What? Like a safe word? You want to hear me screaming </span>
  <em>
    <span>butterscotch</span>
  </em>
  <span> in my own head until you take the hint that </span>
  <em>
    <span>I don’t want you in my fucking body</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Butterscotch… The word catches him off-guard. It sounded familiar; where has he heard Klaus say that before?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>(He thinks back to a cold night on the streets; they were younger then, maybe twenty-three or twenty-two? Klaus had stumbled out of an apartment, purplish finger marks framing his neck and a cut on his lip as he lit a cigarette. He was coming down from a high and had giggled when he caught Ben’s concerned yet scolding gaze.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is it really worth it?” Ben had muttered pitifully, “One of these days, you’re going to meet the wrong guy and they’re going to kill you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Klaus had scoffed, a flippant smirk tugging on his lips. “I’m not worried about it; the trick to hooking up with kinky people is being even </span>
  <em>
    <span>kinkier </span>
  </em>
  <span>than them.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So you like croaking like a frog because your throat is so fucked up? You like walking around with what looks like a zombie bite on your neck?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Klaus shrugs, “Maybe. You don’t stick around for the fun parts; you wouldn’t know. Besides, out of all the people I’ve been with, I’ve only had to use my safeword once-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But I did hear you scream something… A food? Or maybe it was a candy… I heard you from all the way down the hall; don’t tell me that’s a turn on too...”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Klaus had pulled out a baggy from his coat pocket, dryly swallowing down two pills before gazing at the twilight sky with an almost reminiscent look in his eyes. “You know, it’s the BDSM ones that you got to watch out for. I like a rough dom and all but being locked in the closet as punishment is…” he trailed, sniffing once as his tongue ran over the slit on the corner of his lip, tear-stained cheeks suddenly glittering in the low light of the moon, “not all that fun.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Ben had just stared at him curiously, unsure of what spurred on the deflection but detecting that the closet itself was found far scarier than the hook-up so he let the topic drop.)</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Butterscotch. Klaus had screamed butterscotch. It left Ben unsettled, the memory so vivid in his mind that he could imagine the pain in his brother’s eyes; his brother’s terrified screams rang through his ears and the smell of salty cigarette smoke assailed his nostrils.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Was he implying that Ben wasn’t trusted enough to be </span>
  <em>
    <span>without</span>
  </em>
  <span> a safeword? Was he implying that Ben was like the man who hurt Klaus that night? Was he implying that Ben liked to lock him in a dark room as punishment?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Did his brother really compare possession to… rape? It was both a matter pertaining to consent, yes, but Ben would hardly consider them the same level of violation (or maybe he was just telling himself that in an attempt to push away the guilt gnawing in his stomach). </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Ben doesn’t know what to do with himself after this revelation. Klaus still hasn’t looked at him but the rigid and defensive posture remained tight and true within his back and shoulders. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>(</span>
  <em>
    <span>“You want to hear me screaming butterscotch in my own head until you take the hint that I don’t want you in my fucking body?” </span>
  </em>
  <span>He mocks it like he knew a safe word </span>
  <em>
    <span>wouldn’t work</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he spats it like he knew that Ben </span>
  <em>
    <span>wouldn’t listen even if he said something. “-I don’t want you in my fucking body-” </span>
  </em>
  <span>The wording, oh the wording made it sound so much </span>
  <em>
    <span>worse. </span>
  </em>
  <span>If Ben was alive, he thinks he would be sick).</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I wasn’t going to possess you,” the ghost repeats, softer this time, “I just wanna talk.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Klaus spins around and snaps, “About what?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You’ve been avoiding me-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A sharp guffaw cracks through the all too stuffy atmosphere between them and Klaus glares at him, “So you </span>
  <em>
    <span>have</span>
  </em>
  <span> noticed. I’ve been doing that for a while, darling; nothing new to have a hissy fit over.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ben falters for a moment (He has been avoiding him for a while? How long is a while? Why is he just now noticing?) before shaking his head vehemently. “No,” he defends, a frown painting his mouth, “No, it’s been different ever since you injured your hand.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Klaus averts his gaze, crossing his arms, and Ben knows for sure now that he hit the nail on the head; he </span>
  <em>
    <span>is </span>
  </em>
  <span>bothered by something. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It hasn’t,” he sneered, “You’re just noticing now because everyone is over the shock factor of you being there.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The ghost scowls. “You're ridiculous, Klaus. I </span>
  <em>
    <span>know </span>
  </em>
  <span>something is up so why won’t you just explain it to me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nothing is up! Just leave me be!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You're a horrible liar-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fuck off, Ben. You don’t know everything, believe or not-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s your problem with me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There is no </span>
  <em>
    <span>problem. </span>
  </em>
  <span>I just </span>
  <em>
    <span>don’t like you</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That's not the truth and you know it! You can’t even look me in the face!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Maybe because </span>
  <em>
    <span>I hate your face</span>
  </em>
  <span>!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just tell me why you are avoiding me!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>That seems to evoke a different response from Klaus, that blank expression crossing his face and flickering of his irises as he whimpers, “I’m scared of you.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The words sit heavily in the air between them, tension so thick that Ben thought it could suffocate him if he was still alive. His mouth opens and then closes. (</span>
  <em>
    <span>Klaus was scared of him; he’s scared of him. He’s scared of him he’s scared of him he’s scared of him. He’s like every other ghost now; he’s like the monster living in his stomach. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He scared the too-flippant-to-care jokester of the family. He scared the sibling who loved and accepted everyone, who forgave and brushed off every rude comment and every cruel gesture. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Ben was the only one he was treating like this because he was the only one that Klaus truly</span>
  <em>
    <span> feared). </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For a moment, Ben remembers that he doesn't need oxygen; he remembers that it was ultimately pointless to inhale so sharply his lungs probably would have ached if they were still a vital organ for his survival. But the thought is quickly dismissed from decades of the muscle memory gently reminding him that he was still a person, that he was still </span>
  <em>
    <span>human</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And, so, he breathes through a shaky exhale, "Y-You are..?" He swallows thickly around the lump forming in this throat, "Why?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He expected his brother to have a sharp comment that would completely shadow his state of vulnerability with a defense mechanism of animosity, he expected some dry smile that completely contradicts the sorrow in his eyes as he facetiously utters a dark, dirty, or entirely too honest to be taken lightly, joke.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But Klaus was rooted in place, his eyes wide in panic as hands clamped tightly over his mouth as if the confession was blurted without his knowledge and the gravity of his words had just sunk in. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“N-No, I didn’t say that, I didn’t-!” he muffled out frantically before seeing the hurt clearly written across the ghost’s face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You d-did though-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He shakes his head and begins backing up until he hits the gate.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I-I can’t, I can’t- breathe,” Klaus wheezes in a flurry of limbs before finally grabbing the latch and ripping open the gate. He looks away from Ben and begins running down the street. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The spirit just stands there: watching him go, too many thoughts in his head to even begin forming a coherent plea for an explanation.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Ben’s stomach churned, the Horror feeling more alive and daring than it did the day They killed him. He knows that he didn’t mishear, he knows that Klaus’s slip of the tongue was something that the stubborn and carefree man would never have said, to </span>
  <em>
    <span>Ben </span>
  </em>
  <span>of all people. Klaus, better than anyone, knew of his brother's fear of being a monster: he knew of the small Asian boy who cried himself to sleep more often than not with the horrified shrieks of his victims haunting his mind and the stench of their crimson innards penetrating deep within his skin. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His brother, as much of a pain in the fucking ass he was, would </span>
  <em>
    <span>never </span>
  </em>
  <span>dare admit something so personal knowing that it would strike his sibling in the most sensitive, guarded, and darkest of places.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But he did... and the sharp, high carbon steel point pierced the boy (because that's what he really is, right? A little, weak, vulnerable boy that died before ever getting to grow up and experience the world how he so selfishly should have) with the name that ironically meant </span>
  <em>
    <span>"good" </span>
  </em>
  <span>and he can just feel himself bleeding out internally as the viscous liquid fills his chest and floods his throat threatening to cut off any sort of noise he willed himself to utter.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He should feel sad; he should feel scared that Klaus may send him off to the other side in order to feel safe and secure in their own home. Instead, though, he just feels anger: an unbridled, soul-deep bitterness that cracked his calm in despair. But it wasn’t rage towards his brother; the only person he could be angry with was himself for letting his own selfish desires drive him until he finally pushed away the only person who never once considered him a threat (even if he should have on more than one occasion). </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>So when the medium eventually returns to the manor, Ben is waiting for him in his room after pacing back and forth for hours mulling over the negative thoughts in his head.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Klaus freezes in place as soon as he opens the bedroom door.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Close the door and have a seat; you’re not getting out of this,” Ben all but growls as he noticed the glimpse of hesitation filling his brother’s eyes </span>
  <em>
    <span>(he wants to run away again, you’re scaring him again).</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Face wiped of emotion, the man shuts the door and sits on the bed. “I really don’t think-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shut up,” Ben orders, and Klaus’s mouth snaps shut.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I just want an honest answer: that’s it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The medium’s eyes scrunched a bit in confusion (he shifted his jaw a few times like he was chewing on a large piece of gum but his lips never seemed to pull apart). </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Why are you scared of me?” Ben starts, crossing his arms as some insecurity crept into his rising voice, “Why now? What have I done this time that is so different from all the others? You weren’t scared of the Horrors, you weren’t scared of the fact that I am </span>
  <em>
    <span>very much dead</span>
  </em>
  <span>; so why now?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Klaus shook his head; back and forth, back and forth. (He didn’t seem to trust himself to speak; his ashen features now sparkling with sweat like he was on a withdrawal of the lifetime). </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ben stepped forward and the medium winced (his legs would have buckled beneath him if he was standing; his irises kept darting to the door like he wished to escape but his feet were shackled to the floor). </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Why won’t you tell me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Because it’s stupid!” Klaus spats, burying his face in his palms. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Just tell me! Tell me the truth!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The pale, lissome hands lift off his mouth for a brief moment, only long enough to shout, “Something bad happens whenever you’re around me! I-It’s like… It’s like..!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ben’s eyes darkened. “I’m cursed?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes!” Klaus exclaimed before letting out a miserable squeak and clamped his hands back over his mouth, shaking his head again; back and forth, back and forth.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Something wasn’t right. Klaus seemed at war with himself; his mouth said one thing while his body said another. Ben feels an intense desire to prod further, taking full advantage of his brother’s uncharacteristically loose-lipped mouth. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Expression grim, he inquires quite accusatory, “Is that why you’ve actually been doing things for me? Because you’re so scared of the bad luck that could follow treating me worse? Am I… Am I a karma case to you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Klaus’s brow twitches, his fingers sinking into the peaky flesh of his cheeks in fear of his mouth betraying him again.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I just- I just don’t get it. You act detached and ignore me until I want something. Answer me, Klaus: you’ve been just kissing my ass out of fear, right?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I can’t control it,” the man blurts and then stomps his foot a few times, looking up at the ceiling in a silent (most likely rude) prayer, before continuing with, “I’m scared because I can’t stop myself from doing things sometimes and you’re the only constant each time it happens!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>He’s sounding crazy now… Is this some kind of joke? </span>
  </em>
  <span>The ghost wonders but then something odd struck him: despite having been avoiding him, Klaus actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>has </span>
  </em>
  <span>been quick to comply with his wishes. Klaus was, surprisingly, listening to him and that just wasn’t sitting right at all. He fought tooth and nail with Ben’s advice and nagging his entire life but now… now he almost made it his second nature. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“When I… When I told you to- with the mango, you… And then with the scotch and just now when I said to sit and close the door… You’ve really not realized that you are doing what I told you to?” The ghost questions mostly to himself, his brow furrowing in both disbelief and deep thought as he conjured up more examples of Klaus’s strangely obedient behavior. </span>
  <em>
    <span>The cup of coffee, forgetting about the fight out of nowhere, making him corporeal instantaneously, answering him only when he told him too… and the look in his eyes: that blank stare just before he’s rushed with a wave of confusion and panic. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Klaus scowls, his hands lowering. “What the fuck,” he hisses, “Of course </span>
  <em>
    <span>I haven’t realized! </span>
  </em>
  <span>Why would I want to do anything you tell me to? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Why would I purposefully stab my fucking hand with a knife?! Why would I make you corporeal when you’re nothing but an asshole to me?!” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The fire that was once raging on his tongue vanishes completely now, looking at his brother sullenly. “Do you think I’m… controlling you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The medium doesn’t answer but the flash of uneasiness in his eyes seems to speak for him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Ben’s teeth grind together; he can’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>make </span>
  </em>
  <span>his brother do anything. It’s impossible. Klaus is a stubborn, free-willed, piece of shit. If anything, he controls Ben! But yet… But yet…</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Stand up.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Klaus’s eyes narrowed, shooting him a peculiar look as he gets up off the bed. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>That doesn’t prove anything</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Ben reflected, </span>
  <em>
    <span>It’s gotta be something he would otherwise never allow-</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>An idea strikes him and although it wasn’t the… most considerate of ideas, Ben saw no faster way to disprove Klaus’s ridiculous theory.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The medium goes defensive when the ghost takes a step forward, eyeing him warily.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Let me possess you.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And just like that, the expression and caution falls from his brother’s face like shooting stars, Klaus muttering, “Okay.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Shamefully, Ben’s first reaction is excitement (he’s a simple man with simple desires, after all) and a twitch of a smile plays on his lips. “Really?” he asks out of giddy reflex but then he has to stop and remind himself of what this meant to Klaus.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Klaus hated possession, he clearly stated many times before that he </span>
  <em>
    <span>does not want Ben in his fucking body</span>
  </em>
  <span>; he saw consent issues, he didn’t like being controlled, and he didn’t trust Ben to make decisions for him (</span>
  <em>
    <span>He didn’t want to be thrown into a confined, dark room as punishment: Ben leaning against the door to keep it shut as his brother frantically tries to pull and push and beat his way through. There was nowhere more haunted and dark than the mind). </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The man forcibly nods his head but Ben can see the trembling. He can see the muscles of his neck stretching and straining as if he was releasing a silent scream. He can see the terror and dread in his eyes as Ben takes another step forward. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Ben has only ever seen Klaus cry once. It was when the man was kidnapped by Hazel and Cha-Cha, subjected to horrendous torture for hours before being thrown into a closet almost completely naked with restraints tying him to a chair and tape over his mouth. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The ghost knew that his brother had cried many times after and before that but it was never done in his presence except for that one time. Normally, Klaus would hide away somewhere to shed his tears and return later as if nothing ever happened; or, if the emotions hit him very suddenly, he’d look away or cover his face for a mere moment to collect himself before pressing forward in casual indifference. He’s not sure why Klaus felt like he </span>
  <em>
    <span>couldn’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>cry in front of Ben (</span>
  <em>
    <span>not even a single tear at his funeral), </span>
  </em>
  <span>but he felt like it came from a place deeply ingrained in their childhood dynamics that he was the </span>
  <em>
    <span>tough </span>
  </em>
  <span>one, the </span>
  <em>
    <span>supportive </span>
  </em>
  <span>one, the </span>
  <em>
    <span>unbothered by any obstacle thrown at him </span>
  </em>
  <span>one since he was physically the </span>
  <em>
    <span>weakest</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It took torture from professional highly trained assassins, a hopeless realization that nobody would come for him, talkative vengeful spirits, flashbacks to special training (after many years, Ben was able to put together the bits and pieces he gathered from Klaus’s nightmare ramblings to understand the reason behind his brother’s claustrophobia), and being locked in a closet to make his brother completely break down in front of him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yet, here he is: standing next to his bed, head tilted up, eyes screwed shut in fearful anticipation, bottom lip painfully entrapped between clenched teeth, and fat relentless tears rolling down his cheeks.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And at that moment, Ben knew, without a doubt, that the only one cursed was his brother.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hey, sorry for the wait. I've had a rough couple of weeks but thank you for your patience:)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. We Rise Until the Sun Has Left Us Blind</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The assumption that being higher up means you can look down upon others is stupid. Relative success shouldn’t mean so much if everyone used their brother’s back as a stepping stool.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>There are two types of people going into the ending of this story:</p><p>The readers that acknowledged the comments and my replies at the end of the last chapter</p><p>and the readers that thought the climax had already taken place</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em> It’s that window again. That stupid window. He’s standing in front of it with that same stupid plate in his hand and seemingly defective sponge. There’s still that stubborn stain sticking out among the pristine whiteness no matter how much he tries to chip at it, no matter how much he tries to make it go away. The other plates don’t look like this; the other plates don’t behave like this; the other plates had a similar past as this one up until that one meal that just seemed to taint it forever and it’s not fair because no matter how much he scrubs, it will never become </em> <b><em>pure</em> </b> <em>and </em> <b><em>clean. </em> </b></p><p> </p><p><em>It’s a dumb plate. He wants to break it. He wants to chuck it at the floor and watch it shatter: never to be repaired or put back together piece by piece again, just swept up and thrown away to be forgotten about for all eternity. Out of sight, out of mind. It would be so </em><b><em>easy</em></b><em>,</em> <em>it would be so </em><b><em>quick </em></b><em>and</em><b><em> simple</em></b><em>,</em> <em>but yet he can’t get his hands to let it go. He can’t get himself to stop scrubbing. So he just does and when he goes to scream out at that stupid window for taunting him and </em><b><em>watching </em></b><em>him with some unforeseen presence that he just can’t seem to remember ever being there, he can feel duppy fingers caress his lower back and he stiffens not at the touch but at the breath tickling his ear. </em></p><p>
  <em> There is no reflection in the window other than his own, but he knows that he is no longer alone in the kitchen.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p><b> <em>"Do you think lying to us was the best choice?” </em> </b> <em> It whispers in almost a way that a mother comforts a child, </em> <b> <em>“You think being on drugs and drinking and clubbing and living on the streets for the majority of your life was the best choice? You think creating a cult was the best choice?"</em> </b></p><p> </p><p>
  <em> He shivers but does not pull away. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b> <em>"Nothing forced you into making those decisions and I'm sure there was at least one person in your life that tried to dissuade you from each."</em> </b>
</p><p> </p><p><em> He goes to agree but the only thing that leaves his mouth is: </em> <b> <em>"People make mistakes."</em> </b></p><p> </p><p>
  <b> <em>“Would it be okay if I made a mistake?”</em> </b>
</p><p>
  <em> That one sentence floods him with a sense of familiarity that he can’t describe; his gaze tears away from the window towards the face that he can feel so close to him. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Eyes resembling warm pools of honey meet his olive ones, a smile as white and inviting as freshly fallen snow on the 25th of December glistening against chocolate-colored skin. </em>
</p><p> </p><p><em> He feels tears well and he gasps, </em> <b> <em>“Y-You…”</em> </b></p><p> </p><p>Klaus sits up with a start, a hand clutching his chest and breaths coming out in heavy puffs.</p><p> </p><p>“Must of been some dream.”</p><p>He jumps subtly, gaze whipping to the ghost sitting in the corner.</p><p> </p><p>The man says nothing but releases a shaky sigh, running a hand through his untamed locks while keeping a close eye on his brother (Ben could have possessed him; even though he said that it was just to test if he would comply, the man can’t trust him. He can’t trust anyone… not even himself). </p><p> </p><p>“Can you… Can you not watch me while I sleep?” Klaus murmured groggily, grimacing at the croak in his voice, “It might come as a shock to you, but my dead brother’s face is not something I enjoy seeing every time I open my eyes.”</p><p> </p><p>Ben sighed, crossing his arms. “Relax: I’m not going to do anything.”</p><p>Klaus’s body went slack but his gaze remained alert, narrowing his lids as he reminded, “<em> For now </em>.”</p><p>The ghost shrugs and adds, “-At least.”</p><p> </p><p>The man almost wants to smile at the familiar banter but then he has to stop and remember that this is not the same Ben from three years ago: this is not the brother who worried about his well being, this is not the brother who put others before him because he had accepted that he was dead a long time ago, this is not the brother who loved Klaus just as much as he hated him. He was no longer a best friend and biggest support hanging behind the scenes for only the man to confide in; he was real now… to everyone. And he had power over everyone too: manipulation at its finest with guilt trips and pity parties, now with the ability to even overcome the medium’s stubborn willpower of steel. </p><p>
  <em> You can’t trust him; he is a puppeteer and you are glowing red strings practically begging to be tugged and pulled, you’re a lost and corrupted individual pleading for guidance and attention.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“What is it that you want?” Klaus breathes, hands gripping the blanket tightly.</p><p>Ben frowns. “Want? I don’t want anything; this is my room too-”</p><p>“<em>Used </em>to be your room. You are normally wandering around so why are you here this time?”</p><p>“Just go back to sleep,” he rolls his eyes before he rethinks his choice of words and frantically rushes out, “Wait I didn’t mean-”</p><p> </p><p>But it’s too late: exhaustion grips Klaus’s mind and yanks him back against the mattress, eyes slamming shut and dancing with a blankness that welcomes a dreamless slumber. </p><p> </p><p>The ghost gnaws on his inner cheek as he watches his brother’s body fall back onto the bed with a heavy thump, neck at an odd angle and lips parted in soft snores like he had just been clocked in the side of the head, and he decides right then and there that he needs to figure this out before something really bad happens.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p>“Klaus, can you please make me corporeal?”</p><p> </p><p>The man frowns as he anxiously sips his cup of coffee, body pressed against the corner of the kitchen and eyes constantly scanning his surroundings for threats and an easy getaway. </p><p>“What for?” he questions with the steadiest voice he can muster, eyebrow slightly raised in suspicion. </p><p> </p><p>“Does it matter? I’m asking,” Ben says but his tone is lacking its usual venom, just leaning against the counter a few feet away and gaze remaining on the floor to hide his slight shame (and overthinking of literally everything that comes out of his mouth). </p><p> </p><p>Klaus shifts apprehensively, his grip tightening on the mug. </p><p> </p><p>“What’s the problem? I could just make you do it, you know.”</p><p>“I know, exactly,” the medium comments, shimming a little further away “So why even ask if you are going to make me do it anyway if I say no?”</p><p> </p><p>The ghost sighs in annoyance. He locks eyes with his brother and hisses, “I’m trying to be considerate, asshole. Why do you make everything seem like the world is out to get you?”</p><p> </p><p>At this, the man’s gaze turns cold and defensive, snapping, “If you truly did care, if you truly were being considerate, you wouldn’t have pointed out the unspoken threat lingering between us in the first place.” He makes the ghost corporeal anyway, though, and leaves the question with a grumble of, “Stay away from me.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>Ben’s nose wrinkled slightly at his brother’s behavior but shoved down his sudden onset of chagrin, knowing that he must focus on his new task at hand: finding Five.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p>As he wanders down the hall, Ben can’t help but feel like his smallest brother had been toying with him a few days ago. He had been standing near the sink deep in thought when Five appeared and said that they needed to talk. The ghost was first startled that his brother could see him but then he felt that familiar tingling of energy coursing through his body and realized that his blue hands were now corporeal enough to get Klaus’s blood on his fingertips. He had yanked his limbs back from the forgotten mango and knife like they burned him, turning to Five as he crossed his arms in a guarding manner. </p><p><em> “I’m listening,” </em> Ben had muttered sheepishly, finding it difficult to meet the time-jumper’s intense and slightly critical gaze, <em> “Did you need something?” </em></p><p>
  <em> “I don’t know what is going on between the both of you, but it needs to be taken care of.” </em>
</p><p>Ben tried to act bewildered but Five’s narrowing eyes gave away that the act wouldn’t fool him; still, the ghost questioned innocently, <em> “What do you mean? Nothing is going on-” </em></p><p>
  <em> “Bullshit. He’s acting weird and very… hostile lately. I don’t know what you did but you better fix it. I’m tired of the tension: all it does is make everyone uncomfortable.” </em>
</p><p>His face had scrunched up in offense; Five had the audacity to call <em>him </em>out for <em> Klaus’s </em>bad attitude? <em> “He is not my responsibility; I am not his caretaker. If you have a problem with the way </em>he <em>is acting, take it up with him. We are adults for crying out loud, I don’t need the oldest playing mediator.” </em></p><p>Five’s brow had furrowed, his lips stretched thin and pursed as it did when he was displeased. <em> “If you </em>are <em>adults,” </em> he had sneered, <em> “Then grow the fuck up and talk it out. Everyone, especially you, gets on his ass for being immature and petty but you are just as bad; this entire family is just a knotted yarn ball of grudges. Work it out or, I swear to God, I’ll lock you both in a room together until you are forced to actually act like you give a damn about how the other feels. I don’t normally care that everyone is at each other’s throats constantly but the both of you are caustic." </em></p><p> </p><p>The ghost had softened a bit, deciding to hold his tongue instead of pointing out that he could very much just phase through the wall. He knew this was his brother's subtle way of suggesting that he really does care about his family and the problems going on around them even if he pretends he doesn't with a plaster mask of indifference. So Ben had relented and clenched his jaw, giving a gentle nod as he mumbles, <em> "I'll… talk to him. But I honestly don't see how us </em>now <em>is any different than the us </em>before<em>. You weren't there, Five: you wouldn't know." </em></p><p> </p><p>Now, a week later, Ben sees that things are <em>very </em>different. He sees that Klaus <em>is </em>acting weird and hostile and has a very good reason to if the ghost really <em>is </em>able to control him. He sees that Five noticed the shift in their relationship go from bitter to fearful spite before Ben even did and that's saying a lot since he has been with Klaus for nearly seventeen years. </p><p>His eyes have been opened, in a way: perhaps he has been a little too focused on himself lately, perhaps he has thought himself as above Klaus and the shenanigans he liked to pull, perhaps he has always been like this and Klaus has just finally lost his patience.</p><p>Either way, this needs to be fixed. He doesn't deserve this kind of responsibility and Klaus doesn't deserve to be held under another's thumb (even if Ben sometimes would like to think that he would be better off like that. Maybe just not <em> Ben’s </em>thumb). </p><p> </p><p>He knocks twice on the bedroom door, calling out flatly, "Five: open up."</p><p> </p><p>There's a huff from inside before the knob turns and it slowly swings ajar. </p><p>Ben pushes inside and says quickly, "We have a problem."</p><p> </p><p>Five stops his scribbling on the whiteboard, momentarily throwing him a raised brow before turning back to his equations. "What kind of problem?"</p><p> </p><p>"A Klaus problem, a <em> Klaus being compelled to do whatever I tell him </em>problem."</p><p> </p><p>"So what? Klaus is listening to you now: isn't that a good thing?"</p><p> </p><p>Ben looked at him incredulously. "Five, do you even hear yourself? Klaus- <em> listening- </em> to- me- <em> willingly</em>? How does anything about that statement sound normal? Since when does Klaus <em>ever </em>listen to <em>anyone</em>, especially <em>me? </em>"</p><p> </p><p>Five paused again, clicking his tongue. "Good point." He hops down from the stepping stool and sets aside the chalk before turning to his brother. </p><p>"You think he hit his head too hard on something? Should we try hitting him again?"</p><p> </p><p>Ben rolled his eyes with a sigh. "I'm being serious; I think…" his tone dropped to something a little softer, a little more <em> concerned, </em> "Somebody did something to him."</p><p> </p><p>Five just stares inquisitively. "Like what? Mentally scarred him? I didn't think that could ever happen…"</p><p>"No, he thinks- <em> I </em>think- he's cursed."</p><p> </p><p>An amused but disbelieving smile twitches on Five's lips. "You can't be serious. I don't have time for this, Ben. There are no such things as curses."</p><p> </p><p>Ben scowled, gnawing on his cheek again at the ridicule. "No, you don't understand: he literally does everything I say, like without <em>wanting </em>to. It just happens and it freaks him out and sometimes I'm just being sarcastic or hypothetical but while his mind knows that, his body <em> doesn't </em>."</p><p> </p><p>The upturn of his lips disappears, his brow furrows deeper than Ben's had. "How do you know he isn't just messing with you?" He asks bristledly, becoming irritated like the ghost was repeating a practical joke over and over again until somebody laughed. </p><p>"Because he was going to let me <em> possess </em>him yesterday."</p><p>"So-"</p><p>"And started crying and shaking but never said <em> no </em>.”</p><p> </p><p>The time-jumper’s jaw shifted as he fixed Ben with a skeptical gaze. “Show me.”</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p>Living in a house that Ben knew like the back of his hand made it very difficult to hide from the ghost. Klaus could always leave again, travel out onto the streets for hours and hit the clubs or a bar or slide into the alleyways for an easy hook-up, but in the end, he would have to come back. He would <em>always </em>have to come back. This place is inescapable. His <em>past </em>is inescapable. He may be able to run away for a day or two but the rest of his family didn’t deserve that. He was not <em>completely </em>selfish like the others were so hell-bent on believing; if he was, he would have just killed himself by now. But he didn’t want them to blame themselves, he didn’t want their pity or guilt. That has <em>never </em>been something he has wanted (despite their beliefs, again); he just wanted someone to notice, wanted them to <em>care about him</em>.</p><p>But not their pity, no; it wasn’t the same. Those feelings derived out of some moral obligation, some acknowledgment that <em>hey that’s your brother that just died asshole, why weren’t you there to stop it?  </em></p><p> </p><p>Mental torture is worse than physical. And there is nothing stronger than guilt and fear; once the spiral starts, it doesn’t stop until it completely consumes you. <em> How many siblings will we keep losing? Why wasn’t I there? What could have been done differently? Do they blame me? Do they hate me? Why wasn’t I there? I was always so mean to him… Oh poor me! How unfortunate for me! It’s all my fault! I’m the worst! </em></p><p> </p><p>The downward slope escalates until the focus is no longer on the person who died, but on the person who could have <em>prevented </em>it. For Diego, he blamed their father (or was it all a deflection?). For Luther, he blamed himself. For Reginald, he blamed all of them. For Five, he blamed everyone (including himself). For Allison, she blamed everyone except herself (but really just deflected her own self-hatred). For Vanya, she blamed everyone except herself (but really just used death as an excuse to gaslight her own resentment and grudges). For Ben, he blamed his powers and lack of control.</p><p>For Klaus, he didn’t really care. Life happens, death happens. It doesn’t really affect him either way. What’s the point of throwing blame if it’s not going to bring anyone back? The best thing is to brush it off and move on; keep the bad times close but the good times even closer. </p><p> </p><p>So no, he won’t die. So no, he won’t run away and have them assume the worst. Dying isn’t a solution to problems, especially when there’s a good chance it wouldn’t stick. Klaus may be a coward but not when it came to confrontation with his family. He is immune to shame and dignity. If he wants something, he gets it even if he has to degrade himself to the point where others feel embarrassed <em>for </em>him. And if that means he has to crawl up in Allison’s closet in order to hide from his ghostly brother because he <em>wants </em>to be left alone, to hell with pride. But it didn’t really matter because he got hungry and as soon as he stepped foot into the kitchen again, there Ben was with that half hopeful-half wary expression, hovering near the other exit while he heard the familiar whoosh of Five appearing behind him.</p><p> </p><p>He’s not a coward… He just really doesn’t like to be cornered. He just really <em>meant </em>it when he told Ben to stay away from him. He can’t be forced to do anything that the ghost says if he doesn’t hear him right?</p><p> </p><p>He turned sideways, backing up until he hit the sink to ensure that he had either brother in his line of sight and something solid pressed against his back to keep anyone from sneaking up on him. </p><p> </p><p>“Heya Five, lovely day to ambush me in the kitchen… To what do I owe the pleasure?” He addresses the eldest with a sarcastic smile, choosing to pretend that Ben isn’t there but he knows that his eyes give him away each time they subconsciously shift his attention to the ghost out of the habit ingrained in him since day one to never lose sight of the threat, to always have caution and mistrust towards others ringing in the back of his head. </p><p> </p><p>“We’re gonna talk,” his brother says calmly, “Pull up a seat and we can… chat.”</p><p>“No,” Klaus says a little too brightly, a scrunch of his eyes and quirk of his lips in faux playfulness, “I’m perfectly fine right here.”</p><p> </p><p>Five peers at him, like he’s making some calculation that could explain how everything in the world works <em>except </em>for Klaus’s behavior. </p><p>He feels slightly restless under the scrutinizing gaze, crossing his arms over his chest and sending another suspicious glance at Ben before glaring at Five in obvious disinterest. </p><p> </p><p>The time-jumper sends a subtle nod to the ghost and Klaus inhales sharply, waiting for the inevitable command that would be soon to follow. </p><p>“Sit on the counter, then,” the ghost mumbles softly.</p><p> </p><p>Klaus does, even though he <em>doesn’t </em>like it, and deadpans at the space ahead of him as he realizes that they were testing him, again. </p><p>“So I’m guessing loose-lips blabbered about our little predicament here, hm? And I’m also guessing that this was to conclude that it is only <em> his </em>annoying voice that I can’t defy, right?”</p><p> </p><p>Ben frowns at him but he’s looking mainly at Five, waiting for the intelligent one of the group to prescribe some fool-proof solution to the universe’s toughest obstacles like he prides himself in doing so often. </p><p>Five still appears doubtful but Ben seemed convinced of the evidence. </p><p> </p><p>Klaus bites his lip in both relief that there is only <em>one person </em>able to manipulate him but also sudden hyper-awareness that he was going to be toyed with again.</p><p> </p><p>“How convenient for you,” he sneers at the ghost, his left foot wiggling back and forth with nerves.</p><p> </p><p>“He says you’re… cursed,” Five starts with an expression similar to someone peering at bigfoot evidence for the first time. </p><p>The medium gives a noncommittal huff and half-shrug of his shoulders, “Sure.”</p><p> </p><p>His smallest brother scowls. “What do you think then?” he snaps.</p><p>“I don’t know… A side effect of my powers or something?” Klaus suggests flippantly, lip working its way between his teeth as he thought of all the possible things Ben could make him do right now to try and prove his point to Five. There was a small voice in his head whispering <em> Or a side effect of someone else’s… </em> But he shook it off with a subtle shiver. </p><p> </p><p>“How do I know you’re not just fucking around, right now?”</p><p><em> Well then… </em> Klaus thought with an unamused eye roll, <em> getting straight to the point I see. </em>“You think I would stab my hand on purpose?”</p><p> </p><p>His brother didn’t reply, his furrowed brow suggesting that he was conflicted because he honestly <em>didn’t know what Klaus would do. </em> He was reckless, unpredictable; was it really that hard to believe that he would stab his own hand? This man started a cult for crying out loud using song lyrics and a trick of illusions; <em> he has waxed his ass with chocolate pudding before. </em> Nothing was too much of a surprise anymore; nothing seemed <em>too </em>unbelievable in regards to Klaus. </p><p>Including being cursed, he supposes, but he would need some more evidence to fully be on board with such an outlandish notion. </p><p> </p><p>“Wow,” Klaus breathes with a shake of his head, “I’m glad you have <em> so little </em>faith in me.”</p><p>Five looked to Ben again and the medium was about to make a break for it but the ghost was quick to hiss, “Stay. I promise I’m not going to hurt you, just let me show him.”</p><p> </p><p>His muscles betrayed him: rooting themselves to the counter despite his limbs eternally screaming at the strain from his mind telling them to move. He’s panicking.</p><p>This isn’t good. He doesn’t like this. He wants to cuss his brother out, curse him with a miserable existence and demand to be released but before he can even open his mouth, Ben retaliates to his gaze of defiance with a shout of, “All you need to do is just sit here and be quiet! I’m not going to do anything to you!”</p><p> </p><p>Klaus growls, the noise rumbling distinctly in his throat as his arms and legs flexed in an attempt to wiggle free from the invisible restraints seeming to pin him down. </p><p> </p><p>Five watched the exchange with an exasperated expression. “Relax, Klaus. The sooner this is figured out, the sooner this can be over.”</p><p> </p><p>“You see him though, right? He stayed when I told him and then I told him to be quiet and he isn’t saying anything now. I- I didn’t even mean to force anything upon him but my choice of words triggered it regardless. Do you see why this is a serious thing now?” </p><p> </p><p>The time-jumper sighs. “Ben, these are very minuscule things; I would hardly call them concrete evidence. Why don’t you try to possess him or something? Something he actually wouldn’t <em> want </em>to do.”</p><p> </p><p>Klaus’s eyes go wide, frantically shaking his head as he looks at Ben in desperate pleading. <em> What the fuck is wrong with this family? Why does everyone go straight to possession as an answer for everything? </em></p><p> </p><p>The ghost averts his gaze and says rather reluctantly to the floor, “I said I wouldn’t hurt you… You do trust me not to do at least that, right?”</p><p>Klaus isn’t sure what <em>that </em>is supposed to mean: is Ben asking him to trust him in taking care of his body during the possession or asking him to trust that Ben <em>won’t </em>possess him because it causes him pain?</p><p> </p><p>Either way, the answer is no. And when those almond eyes meet his, he knows that the darkened expression crossing his brother’s face means he knew the answer too.</p><p> </p><p>“Fine, how about I ask you a question then?” Ben grits out in frustration, taking a step forward.</p><p> </p><p>He doesn’t understand why Ben is mad when he brought this all on himself: did he <em>really </em>expect Klaus to just forgive him for every single thing he does without any sort of repercussion? How is it even remarkably fair for Ben to ask for his trust when he has done literally nothing except take advantage of it?</p><p>If the spirit should be angry at anyone, it should be at himself. But Messiah sees all, knows all; how could he <em>possibly </em>be at <em>fault</em>?</p><p> </p><p>Klaus’s eyes narrow and he raises a single brow to look at Ben in circumspection, <em> Try me.  </em></p><p> </p><p>“Why do you not trust me?”</p><p>His lips part but the ghost adds venomously, “And don’t you dare say that it’s because <em>I’m</em> <em>not you</em>. I want the real answer.”</p><p> </p><p>Klaus sets his jaw in irritation. Ben was going to ask him this and if he didn’t answer, he’d then force him to say it. If he didn’t give a <em> good enough </em>answer, he’d force him to spit out something that was too revealing and truthful. Even if Ben didn’t <em>like </em>the answer, he could quite possibly make Klaus say something that only the ghost wants to hear. He could make Klaus believe something he previously didn’t; he could say <em>trust me </em>and Klaus would be powerless to stop it. </p><p>
  <em> Oh fuck, he could totally just say to trust him, huh? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>The opportunity to reply without cosmic persuasion was tempting but Ben only offered it to mock him. Why does everybody ask him this question? Trust and possession have described the majority of his conversations with his siblings these last couple of weeks, an unlikely duo that keeps rearing their ugly heads and angering the people around him when he doesn’t give a satisfactory answer (siblings… he said siblings yet he can’t really remember <em> which </em> siblings he has had this conversation with…)  </p><p> </p><p>Footsteps cut through the tension and now Klaus wants to crawl up in a hole to die because Luther and Diego seemed to have heard the commotion and gravitated towards the kitchen to investigate (<em> nosy bastards). </em></p><p>Now he <em>really </em>won’t answer. The whole family doesn’t need to know his business; Ben doesn’t <em>deserve </em>to know his business after he has been given every opportunity to figure it out himself. </p><p> </p><p>His lips pursed stubbornly and Ben’s mouth curls into a snarl. “Say something.”</p><p>“D-Don’t make me answer that,” Klaus mumbles, “Not here, not now.”</p><p>“I want an answer now.”</p><p>“Ben, please-”</p><p>“Tell me, Klaus.”</p><p> </p><p>The magic word had been uttered and there’s a burning feeling filling his mind as he fights to keep his teeth together and tongue motionless but the words slip through with the rest of his control and the things he really wants to say he tries to force out but it tangles with the subconscious string that had already begun to unravel from his most inner thoughts. </p><p> </p><p>A large, jumbled knot was the only product that finally managed to escape him.</p><p>“<em>You-</em> <b>I’ve</b><em> promised-</em> <b>been</b><em> you-</em> <b>raped</b><em> wouldn’t-</em> <b>twice</b><em> hurt-</em> <b>in</b> <em>me-</em> <b>my</b><em> but- </em><b>life: </b><em>forcing- </em><b>once </b><em>me- </em><b>when</b><em> to- </em><b>I </b><em>say- </em><b>was</b><em> this- </em><b>too </b><em>hurts- </em><b>weak</b><em> so- </em><b>and</b><em> fucking- </em><b>naive </b><em>bad </em><b>to </b><em>You- </em><b>understand </b><em>are- </em><b>consent </b><em>the- </em><b>and </b><em>most-</em><b> the </b><em>selfish-</em><b> other </b><em>person- </em><b>was </b><em>I’ve-</em><b> when </b><em>ever- </em><b>I </b><em>met-</em><b> was </b><em>and-</em><b> too </b><em>I- </em><b>traumatized </b><em>will- </em><b>and </b><em>never- </em><b>haunted </b><em>forgive-</em><b> by </b><em>you-</em><b> memories </b><em>for-</em><b> to </b><em>this-</em><b> fight back. Consent is important to me and if only two out of all the strangers I’ve hooked up with couldn’t respect that, imagine my horror when my own brother couldn’t. I thought that I wouldn’t always have to be strong, leery, healed, and invulnerable around you; I thought I could be myself and that it was ok that I wasn’t perfect. I thought I could trust you. I thought wrong.” </b></p><p> </p><p>It’s dead silent. Shaky hands grip his hair with a heavy inhale as he turns away from them all. The window, the window: he sees himself in the glass. That’s all he has ever needed to see; he has only ever needed himself. </p><p>His hands slowly fall to his sides and clench into tight fists. </p><p> </p><p>Himself. Himself. He only needs himself. On the edges of the glass, he sees more than himself. He sees Five on the right. He sees Ben on the left. He sees Diego and Luther on the other side of the counter directly behind him. </p><p>He sees their faces. He sees the pity in their eyes, he sees the shame in Five’s. He sees the shock and guilt and regret flash through Ben’s like lightning in a storm. And there was a cloud, a <em> heavy </em>cloud over the room that no one dared to speak through. </p><p>He doesn’t want their pity, he never wanted them to hear about his crappy life and feel <em>bad </em>for him and feel <em>bad </em>that <em>they weren’t there. </em> But that’s all he is getting now. And since no one is quite showing that they care, no one is quite showing that they <em>understand </em>the reasons why he acts the way he does, the reasons why gets upset the way he does… He might as well have been dead because they aren’t <em>doing </em>anything to make it better. </p><p> </p><p>But he won’t give them that kind of satisfaction that there <em>is no longer an opportunity to get better. </em> He will stay, sitting there in this godforsaken house, as a reminder of their mistakes. As a reminder of how they weren’t there but they could be. As a reminder that they weren’t perfect. As a reminder that they’ve <em>all </em>made mistak-</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> (“Would it be okay if I made a mistake?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> That one sentence floods him with a sense of familiarity that he can’t describe; his gaze tears away from the window towards the face that he can feel so close to him. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Eyes resembling warm pools of honey meet his olive ones, a smile as white and inviting as freshly fallen snow on the 25th of December glistening against chocolate-colored skin) </em>
</p><p>Allison. Allison did something. Allison made a mistake. Allison… did she rumor him? The dreams… were they memories? </p><p> </p><p>He- He can’t be here right now. First Ben, then Diego and Five, and now Allison? No one. He trusts no one.</p><p> </p><p>He wasn’t cursed, he was rumored. He was the plate, the stupid plate. He wants to break it. He wants to scream. </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Ben never seems to learn his lesson. He bites his tongue with how hard his teeth are clenched. He wants to feel the physical pain; he’s desperate for it. There is no taste of blood in his mouth. There is no stinging from broken flesh. He’s just numb but the emotional pain is unbearable.</p><p> </p><p>This ability is dangerous; being dead is dangerous. You lose a bit of yourself; you lose sight of those around you.</p><p>
  <em> Don’t lock him in a dark room; don’t say something that could possibly hurt him. He did all of that, didn’t he? Pressured him into answering, right in front of everybody! Klaus doesn’t open up about his past trauma, he doesn’t reveal details that could somehow be used against him later on. But he got angry and slightly envious that he fell out of favor with Klaus and let his glinted words strike his brother down out of his own selfish need for answers without any thought of how raw and unfiltered it could be when it is practically dragged out of his head and straight through his mouth.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> (“-forcing me to say this hurts so fucking bad” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “You are the most selfish person I’ve ever met and I will never forgive you for this” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> He really didn’t deserve his trust, did he?) </em>
</p><p> </p><p>There is an airy giggle that suddenly slices the tense quietness that had settled over them.</p><p>Ben goes rigid and the others seem to hold their breath in anticipation.</p><p> </p><p>“This works out for you quite well, doesn’t it?”</p><p>The ghost stares at the back of Klaus’s head.</p><p> </p><p>“Tell me: how long did it take you to plan this whole thing up, hm?”</p><p>Ben’s lips bob a few times in confusion before Five cuts in with a “What are you talking about?”</p><p> </p><p>Minutes, maybe seconds tick by before there is another light chuckle. “It was truly some stellar acting: you know, experimenting for a while, testing the limits of the rumor, keeping it small to throw off suspicion in the beginning before slowly working up to the actual things you want.”</p><p> </p><p>“Acting? R-Rumor? Klaus, what the hell are you saying?” Diego questions timidly.</p><p> </p><p>The medium grins icily before chirping, “Oh you’re all in on it, aren’t you? Makes sense, honestly, everybody got what they wanted. This idea had probably been on the back-burner for a long time, just waiting until you could get me alone and vulnerable; just waiting until I made a measly threat that made everyone wanna jump on board before they lost their favorite brother.”</p><p> </p><p>“Klaus,” Ben mumbled in both bewilderment and a hint of sadness, “I don’t understand-”</p><p>Klaus whips around and shouts furiously, “Cut the bullshit, Ben! I figured it out, I figured you all out!”</p><p> </p><p>“You have to explain, idiot! We don’t know what you are spewing about right now!” Five said, his patience obviously having worn thin from just standing there and for once being unsure of what is going on around him. </p><p> </p><p>“Allison rumored me for you; I know she did! Diego and you snuck off, leaving Allison to do her dirty work, and then you came and found me later acting all innocent! It all makes sense now! The questions, the orders, the dreams, that itching at the back of my mind every time you and she came anywhere near me! You are all against me!”</p><p> </p><p>Ben shook his head with wide eyes. “N-No Klaus, I swear that’s not it! I would never tell her to do something like that! I didn’t know!”</p><p>“Klaus, you need to calm down. No one is against you; I’m sure Allison has a reasonable explanation for whatever she did,” Luther attempted to diffuse, putting his hands out in front of him like he was approaching a wild animal, “Just tell us what’s going on and we can help-”</p><p> </p><p>“No! I will not do anything unless <em> Benny </em> says it; you’ve all ensured that after all!” His fiery gaze snaps over to Diego and he sneers, “Are you happy now, brother dear? You got your wish: Ben can possess me whenever he wants; he can finally eat dinner with all of you; he can hang out with everyone in just a few words; he can keep me from going back on drugs and alcohol; hell, he can keep from ever making a stupid decision ever again! And that’s what you wanted, right? You wanted Ben, you wanted me to only <em> be me </em> when I’m a perfect image of Ben!” He smiles sickeningly sweet, so dry and cutting that Diego freezes on the spot, “Is that the only reason you talked to me before the apocalypse? Because I helped assuage your guilt of being a failure? Because I was the only memory and hope of Ben left for you? And then when you figure out that you can have the <em> desired </em>brother instead, who the hell needs me, right?”</p><p> </p><p>Diego’s jaw clenched in frustration but his eyes were glassy in remorse. “Is that really how you feel?” He mumbled in a worried and depressing tone, “D-Did I make you feel like that?”</p><p> </p><p>“So now you care about how <em> I </em>feel? Ha! Too late to ask such pointless questions!”</p><p>“Klaus, leave Diego out of this! This is about Ben and-”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh shut up, Five!” the medium snarks, turning his glare towards their smallest sibling, “Not everything is about Ben! This is about me! Notice me, acknowledge me! Not Ben! I’m here! Right here! Look at me! I am the <em>alive </em>one! I am not his ghost, I am not his shadow!”</p><p> </p><p>If the ghost could cry, he thinks he would at the moment as emotions seemed to overwhelm his mind and use his heart as a punching bag. Klaus was so<em> hurt, </em> so <em>sad</em>, so <em>broken </em>and it was all Ben’s fault. He shouldn’t have pushed him to answer, he shouldn’t have taken advantage of him time and time again, he should have just left him alone like he wanted. If he never spoke again, Klaus would never have to be hurt by his words again. </p><p>Why didn’t he put two-and-two together when he saw Allison leaving the kitchen? She must have rumored him that night and then left the next day to escape her guilt, to escape the questioning that may arise when someone notices that something was horribly off. </p><p> </p><p>He wasn’t cursed, he was <em>used. </em> And, honestly, isn’t that <em>so much worse?  </em></p><p>“Klaus, please,” Ben whispered, a deep frown and brow furrowed like someone just took his soul out of his body and stepped on it with a crud-covered shoe right in front of him, “I didn’t have anything to do with this rumor. We weren’t plotting against you, I would never do something like this to you! I would never want something like this for you! Nobody deserves this kind of power over someone; <em> no one. </em>”</p><p> </p><p>Klaus laughs and shakes his head, “I, I, I: once again, you’re only thinking about yourself. But what else should I expect? Your plan to completely become a real boy is blowing up in your face and it sucks, doesn’t it Pinocchio? I’m glad I’m here to see the look on your face when you realized that you <em> don’t know everything</em>, that you <em> don’t know what’s best for me </em>!”</p><p> </p><p>“Jesus Christ, Klaus, just belie-”</p><p>Ben cut himself off as a surge of energy sizzled through the room and the ghost’s form burned a little brighter, a little richer blue. His frightened gaze shoots to Klaus who was staring at him in warning.</p><p> </p><p>“Think about your next words   <em> very   carefully </em>,   Ben,” Klaus apprises with such a frigid undertone that he was sure everybody in the room had stopped breathing just to hear over their pounding hearts.</p><p> </p><p>He almost did it again: he almost manipulated Klaus without even acknowledging the irreversible implication behind his words. He needs to think, he needs to take a moment and scan over and proofread every thought in his head before his lips begin moving. </p><p>“I didn’t know she rumored you,” breathed Ben, eyes shining with desperation, “I-I wouldn’t do that to you, you know that, r-right?”</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t know what to believe anymore,” Klaus mumbled vapidly, turning to leave the kitchen (Five had conveniently remained motionless as their brother passed him).</p><p> </p><p>No, no… no no no no no! Klaus can’t leave right now! He can’t think that they all betrayed him! He has to believe Ben! He has to forgive Ben! HE CAN’T HATE BEN, HE CAN’T HE CAN’T HE CAN’T. </p><p>The ghost runs forward, attempting to grab his brother’s wrist as he pleads, “Klaus, please-”</p><p> </p><p>The medium yanks his hand out of reach and growls, “Don’t touch me.”</p><p>Ben maneuvers to where he is now standing in front of him, blocking his path. He cries frantically, “Klaus, you don’t understand! We need to talk this out so you can realize that this is all just a big misund-”</p><p> </p><p>“Stay away from me.”</p><p>“No, please, just liste-”</p><p>“I said,” that crackle of energy fizzled to life again, Ben too hysterical to realize exactly what it entails as he continues to reach for him, “<em> stay away.” </em></p><p> </p><p>The ghost flickered. His entire form vanished from existence for a split second before he is breathing heavily and glancing around feverishly at the familiar kitchen and fear-stricken faces of his siblings. Ben feels his chest and face with his hands to make sure he is all still <em>there </em>before freezing as he registered what just happened. He slowly looks up, meeting the medium’s baleful gaze. (He <em>banished </em>me<em>. He actually banished me. He dangled my soul over the brink of the light before yanking me back. He wasn’t scared to do it; he had no hesitation. It was a threat, it was his final warning). </em></p><p> </p><p>Ben had never feared his brother (it was hard to even take him seriously most of the time) but at this moment, he was absolutely terrified. He feared uttering another word, taking another step, even inhaling another breath under the intense stare of those olive eyes looking straight <em>through </em>him. </p><p>The ghost knows that he is shaking. He knows that his lip is trembling. He knows that he looked like a little kid that has just been yelled at for the first time by his usually lenient and soft-spoken parent. </p><p> </p><p>No one dared move or speak; no one, once again, dared to breathe because this was <em>Klaus</em>: the most unpredictable person on the planet. They know that the threats were no longer empty, they know that Klaus is perfectly capable of sending Ben away forever and there is not a single thing they could do about it. And all the assurance Ben has felt for <em>years </em>that no matter what he said or did, Klaus valued and loved him too much to ever have the guts to send him away… vanished as quickly as he did. </p><p> </p><p>Ben bites his bottom lip to the point that an alive person would have winced at. There was the briefest glimpse of guilt that flashed through Klaus’s eyes but he turned away before Ben could read into it too much, leaving through the front door and slamming it shut behind him.</p><p> </p><p>It was a few minutes before anyone broke from their stupor. Diego ran an anxious hand through his hair and Ben deflated as he ripped himself out of corporeality to suffer alone.</p><p>Five mumbled, “Somebody call Allison…”</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p>He wasn’t sure how long he stayed like that: crumbled on the floor with his knees tucked under his chin as he stared vacantly at the kitchen cabinets. He felt so horribly numb and, ironically, lifeless. He wasn't sure if he could ever recall feeling like this because while he is dead (having been dead for a very <em>long </em>time), he has never quite been entirely alone like the other spirits. Even when everybody forgot about him and moved on with their lives, he <em>always </em>had <em>someone</em>. Even when he was a quiet, book-loving wallflower, he <em>always</em> had <em>someone</em>. Even when he was thrown into a different time period and grew even more cold, distant, and bitter, he <em>always</em> had <em>someone</em>. Dead or alive, he has always had someone even if he didn’t want <em>their</em> <em>particular </em>company or attention.</p><p> </p><p>He always had Klaus. </p><p> </p><p>But has Klaus always had him?</p><p> </p><p>It is selfish for his brain to immediately declare <em>yes</em>, <em> he has been there by his side through it all: has seen more, heard more, than any other person should ever have of his brother. </em>But was he really there by choice or simply obligation? And was he by his side for support out of the goodness of his heart or was it because he was too scared to be alone and found his brother as the only outlet for entertainment?</p><p>In all honesty, the answer is a no, he has not always <em>been there </em>for Klaus. He has not always been a helping hand, a shoulder to cry on, a nurturing or encouraging voice (whether all of it could be metaphorical or not). He has not paid any more attention to Klaus than he has any of his other siblings. Realistically, he does not consider himself to be <em>closer </em>to Klaus than any of his other siblings. Sure, he knows more about him and Klaus knows him probably just as well, but if Klaus wasn’t the <em>only </em>person he could talk to whenever he felt like it… would he have even been around him at all? If he was alive, would he have even taken the time to <em>know </em>Klaus?</p><p> </p><p>Selfishly, he wants to once again declare <em>yes </em>but he knows in his heart that the answer is <em>no</em>. They were simply forced together out of circumstances but when he stops to think about it, Klaus has probably never seen it like that, huh?</p><p> </p><p>Klaus didn’t have to summon him on that one chilly December morning; Klaus didn’t have to talk to him whenever he desired to despite knowing that others looked at him like he was psychotic; Klaus didn’t have to ask him where <em>they </em>should go, what <em>they </em>should eat, who <em>they </em>should hang out with; Klaus didn’t have to pour him unreachable cups of juice or coffee, serve him unattainable plates of food, or always sit in places that were big enough for two; Klaus didn’t have to treat him as his equal yet he did.</p><p>He did more for Ben than he did any other ghost. And yet, Ben just kept demanding for more and never stopped to appreciate that the things his brother did was not done with the intention to mock him with that which he can no longer experience unlike the medium himself, it was to make him feel included. It was to make him feel alive. It was to make him feel remembered. It was to make him feel acknowledged, appreciated and cared for. It was to make him feel all the things Klaus had never felt from others even though he ironically had the physical capability to. </p><p>And while Ben took advantage of the fact that he will never have a desolating afterlife like the average ghost, Klaus was just happy that there was someone that relied on him (even if they were technically <em>forced </em>to; he ignored that it was all an illusion). </p><p> </p><p>Without Klaus, he doesn’t really exist. Klaus made him exist, made him feel real even when everyone dismissed the junkie as a liar. But he didn’t want to be real in just Klaus’s eyes, he wanted to be real in everybody <em>else’s</em>. And if he can’t have that, then the limited interactions he had, the fate he had, simply wasn’t good enough. </p><p> </p><p>He got too stuck on himself, too big for his britches: he started thinking about all that he <em>didn’t </em>have and blamed Klaus for not <em>giving </em>it to him. He really was selfish.</p><p> </p><p>Is that why Klaus never told anyone that Ben was there? Is that why he lied to their family time and time again? To teach him a lesson? To get back at him for being a selfish asswad for all those years? For never appreciating everything Klaus has done for him?</p><p>No… Klaus wasn’t <em>that </em>petty… Perhaps, Klaus did it out of fear. Perhaps he was scared of losing the only person who ever relied on him. Perhaps he was scared of no longer being needed. Perhaps he was scared that Ben would seize the opportunity of other human interactions and completely kick Klaus to the curb because all he ever was was a convenient outlet for Ben’s autophobia, pushed together by their circumstances and not by choice but now he had a choice and he chose the others because he never really cared about Klaus and- damn… his brother either really knew him well or wasn’t bullshitting people about being a prophet who could predict the future because that is <em>exactly </em>what happened…</p><p> </p><p>So, really, he can’t blame Klaus for all that has happened: he had never given a reason for Klaus to feel otherwise. Maybe if he told him a few <em>thank you</em>’s or a couple of <em> you’re the most important person in my life and I will never leave you </em>’s every now and then, things would have turned out very differently.</p><p> </p><p>Why does everyone only value the five-stepper when, in reality, it was the one-stepper that sacrificed all of his own progress to get him there? </p><p>Of course he hasn’t made it up any higher: he literally just carried the weight of another being’s world upon his shoulders up four steps, dropped him off, and then had to walk back down to begin his <em>own </em>journey. The assumption that being higher up means you can look down upon others is stupid. </p><p>The perspective shouldn’t be about the quantity of steps, but the journey taken to each one. Relative success shouldn’t mean so much if everyone used their brother’s back as a stepping stool.</p><p> </p><p>Ben was repulsed by the mere notion, especially since his family never seemed to <em>worship </em>him when he was actually <em>alive. </em> Their love for him now, their placing of him upon a pretty little pedestal, it was all a product of their guilty conscience. It was all a literal representation of the saying that <em>you don’t know how good you have it until it’s gone. </em> But that saying irked him as well because the truth is: you knew <em>exactly </em>what you had, you just never considered the possibility of <em>losing </em>it. </p><p>He is disgusted that his family only notices and adores him now (whether his heart was beating or not, Klaus had <em>always </em>treated him with the same brotherly affection; if they believed Klaus all those years ago before he was sober, they could have acknowledged him a lot soon) but saying that he’s a bit of a hypocrite would be the understatement of the century. </p><p> </p><p>He is a ginormous hypocrite; he is beyond disgusted with himself for being able to apply that same saying to what just occurred between him and Klaus. </p><p> </p><p>And isn't that unfortunate? That two people craving the same level of affection and acknowledgment and acceptance can't even be there for each other?</p><p> </p><p>It's not unfortunate: it's fucking tragic. </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p>It isn’t until late into the evening that the hollowed ghost hears the familiar creak of the front door. He stands from the floor, pushing himself up in a flurry of limbs and even phasing through the wall to see who finally decided to grace the worried Hargreeves’ family with their presence. </p><p> </p><p>He forgets that he isn’t corporeal as he comes to a stop in front of his sister, her eyes staring straight through him at their other siblings who were sitting in the common area with tense postures that always suggested a family meeting. Vanya enters the front door soon after, heaving one of Allison’s overly-sized black suitcases before freezing in her tracks at all of the eyes suddenly upon them.</p><p> </p><p>“U-Uh, hey,” she mumbled with an awkward smile, glancing from Allison to her brothers (minus Klaus and Ben for obvious reasons), “Is everything alright? I mean, not that I have a problem with being randomly called to pick up Allison from the airport but Diego sounded pretty serious and her flight was originally scheduled for a couple of days from now so...”</p><p> </p><p>There’s an exhausted sigh from Five as he continues to glare at their tallest sister before he mutters rather calmly for his typical homicidal aggression, “I would advise you both to come have a seat; we have <em> a lot </em>to talk about.”</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p>It is horrendously awkward as they are all seated in silence, waiting for the other to speak. </p><p>Ben is leaning against the wall, quietly observing just like the old times; he could try and see if Klaus is still pouring energy into their connection for him but there is no guarantee that as soon as he <em>is </em>corporeal, he won’t go flying across the room to scream in their sister’s face.</p><p> </p><p>For now, he’ll play spectator… as a ghost <em>should </em>be (he’s going to lose his shit though if somebody doesn’t start talking). </p><p> </p><p>“What the fuck have you done to Klaus?” Ah Diego, always straight to the point. </p><p> </p><p>Allison’s brow raises in slight surprise before her face twists into that offended wry smile she gets when she’s being accused of something, “Klaus? What do you mean?”</p><p>“Come on, don’t play dumb-”</p><p>“I’m not playing <em>anything. </em>I haven’t even been here in almost two weeks-”</p><p> </p><p>“Allison,” Luther interrupts with a sad expression, his lips downturned in disappointment, “We know you rumored him…”</p><p> </p><p>Her face goes blank but her inner cheek seems to find its way between her molars. “How?” she drawls.</p><p>“His irises,” Five explains acidicly, “they get hazy for a split second when he really doesn’t want to do something.”</p><p>“I guess I’m not following-”</p><p> </p><p>Diego finally cracks and barks, “You rumored him to follow Ben’s commands! Didn’t you ever stop to think how dangerous that could be? You basically handed over his free will to a dead guy! (No offense, Ben, wherever you are…)”</p><p> </p><p>“Allison…” Vanya gasps softly, looking at her in hurt and disappointment, “Tell me you didn’t…”</p><p> </p><p>She sighs heavily, hanging her head slightly before snapping, “Fine, so what if I did? It wasn’t just <em>some dead guy</em>, it was Ben! It was our brother!” </p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“What makes you think that I would have ever wanted that for him?”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>Allison jumps at the ghost’s growl, her head whipping to the now corporeal form stalking his way towards the couch. She gulps.</p><p>“What makes you think that you had the right to allow <em> anyone </em>the ability to dictate how your own brother chooses to live his life?”</p><p> </p><p>“He was going to banish you, Ben!” Allison cried frantically, standing from her seat and hands flying through the air, “I- <em> We </em>- can’t lose you again!”</p><p> </p><p>“He banished me <em> today</em>.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>At that everyone seemed to stutter in their breathing, gazes directing to Ben’s face in an instant. </p><p>Diego mumbles in distress, “Is that why you...”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p> </p><p>Allison frowned anxiously. “B-But y-you’re still here-”</p><p>“I’m only still here because <em>he chose</em> to bring me back. Even with the little crutch you decided to bestow upon me, in the end, I still only exist because of <em>Klaus. </em>And he can change that before I even get a chance to open my mouth, with or without the rumor.”</p><p> </p><p>Her eyes water, "Y-You can fix it: just tell him not to banish you-"</p><p>"Allison," Ben warns with a scowl, "That is not the problem here."</p><p> </p><p>"But-"</p><p>"The problem is: I didn't ask for this, <em> he </em>didn't ask for this. You can't just manipulate everyone around you every time something in your life doesn't go your way; we are <em> people</em>, Allie, not dolls in your dream house."</p><p> </p><p>She shakes her head. "No, I did this for you because he treats you unfairly. You're our brother and we love you, Ben; why would we just want to sit there and watch you suffer? Both of you benefit from this: you get what you want and Klaus will finally be on the right track. I have my full trust in you; are you saying I shouldn’t?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes.” He didn’t even hesitate. Allison’s brain seems to stall for a second before her nose wrinkles. “Whether I’m a total stranger, a murderous monster, or the purest angel on Earth, you still shouldn’t trust another’s life in my hands. You may throw your own life at others and trust them to catch you but you have no right to decide somebody else’s fate for them.”</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t say that,” she whispered almost angrily as her hands clenched tightly, “I’ve always been there for Klaus: I’m not throwing him at others, I’m guiding him to others! I’m helping him!”</p><p> </p><p>“You are not helping anyone but yourself!” Ben shouted, his brow furrowing as he realized he might be projecting a little bit but too far gone to care because he has had many epiphanies in the last hour and has done nothing except bottle them up for only himself to hear (with not even Klaus to vent to). “You’ve been there on very rare occasions, convenient occasions! It’s one thing to be a shoulder, it’s another to willingly seek him out to offer it!”</p><p>“What are you trying to say?!”</p><p>“I’m saying that just because you happen to be by his side when he’s going through something, doesn’t mean you would have come to him if you thought he was hurting. You would rather just forget he exists but when you are forced to see him hurting, then you feel obliged to help because you can’t just feign ignorance!”</p><p> </p><p>Allison’s eyes narrowed in indignant fury, hissing, “How dare you! I sought him out in the ’60s, I offered him refuge when all of the shit with Dave and you and Raymond went down!”</p><p>“But you said <em> always</em>,” Ben pointed out spitefully, “Where were you before the ’60s, hm?”</p><p>“I paid for his rehab <em> every single time </em>!”</p><p>“But you weren’t there at court, you never visited, you weren’t even there to pick him up afterward! You ignored his calls, you pretended he didn’t exist in every interview unless they specifically brought him up, and then you just put him down as a long cause!”</p><p>“Yeah, so I wasn't the best of sisters in the past: everyone has regrets, okay? What the hell do you want from me, huh? To go back in time and fix it <em> all </em>?”</p><p>“No, I want you to get over yourself! Accept that you haven’t changed at <em>all. </em> You are the same manipulative, control-and-power-hungry bitch you were growing up!”</p><p> </p><p>There is a chorus of gasps that erupt through the room; Ben takes a sobering breath before continuing in a lower tone:</p><p>“You always said you wouldn’t use your power because it brings nothing but trouble but it isn’t your power that screws things up, Allison, it’s you. You are easily tempted, easily corruptible. You just can’t resist the power it gives you. You are addicted to it; and even when you go cold-turkey, you relapse under the comfort that it’s for a <em> good cause, </em> but you always go too far because you just <em> can’t </em> help yourself.”</p><p> </p><p>She scowled and cried, “I’m not weak or stupid, Ben! I can control my urges just fine!”</p><p>“We all have problems, Allison; they don’t make you weaker or stupider than anyone else in this house. We are all so hard on Klaus just because he isn’t ashamed to wear his problems on his sleeve; we pick on him to make us feel better about ourselves, you realize that, don’t you? How about fixing your own problems before sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong. How about getting the full story before you name yourself my righteous savior!"</p><p> </p><p>"Oh so now we <em> all </em> have problems?" Allison sneers despite the tears welling in her eyes, "What about you, Ben? You think that you're above us all, don't you? You were always the <em>nicest, </em> the <em>quietest</em>, the <em>friendliest</em>; you were the <em>perfect </em>child, everybody's <em>favorite. </em>"</p><p>"Because I was <em>dead</em>," Ben replied coldly, quietly, his throat tight with emotions, “You are only remembering the best of me because I’m dead. And even with my heart no longer beating, I am still just as <em> fucked up </em>as the rest of you; I’ve made mistakes, I’ve hurt people, I have manipulated and betrayed and scarred those close to me. Y-You just… You just haven’t seen it.”</p><p> </p><p>It was quiet for a few moments at Ben’s confession; Diego squirming in his seat uncomfortably, Luther impossibly stiff, Vanya sniffling, Allison maintaining eye contact despite the pain in her remorseful brown orbs, and Five leaning against the chair with his arms crossed and a glare fixed onto the floor.</p><p> </p><p>The time-jumper was the first one to speak: “What you did earlier was fucked up, Ben. Something- Something like <em> that </em>nobody should ever be forced to share.”</p><p>The ghost sighed. “Trust me: <em> I know</em>.”</p><p> </p><p>“What did you do?” Allison mumbled hesitantly.</p><p>Ben shook his head. “Made him overshare. I wasn’t even thinking, just speaking and I was mad and I forced him to say something that he didn’t want to. See, Allie? I can’t be trusted with his well being. I’ve hurt him more than I’ve helped him in these last couple of weeks. He never wants to talk to me again. I need you to undo this before something worse happens.”</p><p> </p><p>She nibbles her bottom lip, eyes glancing nervously around at their siblings before meeting his again. “I- I can’t.”</p><p> </p><p>Everybody sits up in alarm, staring at Allison like she just said there is another apocalypse coming.</p><p> </p><p>Diego questions angrily, “What do you mean you <em> can’t</em>?”</p><p>“I can’t undo a rumor! It doesn’t work like that!” She snapped at her brother before turning back to Ben with a worried frown. “I can try to say another rumor that could cancel it out but that might just make things worse. Can’t you just tell him to stop doing whatever you say?”</p><p> </p><p>“It could be taken too literally; he may never do anything Ben says even if he was planning to anyway,” Five observed.</p><p>“Tell him not to listen to you?” Luther suggested, his lips pushed out in a slight pout and forehead wrinkled as it did when he was confused but trying to understand.</p><p>“Then he may never hear anything I say again,” the ghost mumbled, lips pursed in thought.</p><p> </p><p>"Well…" Allison said, crossing her arms over her chest in a guarded manner, "As long as you don’t directly tell him to do something-"</p><p>"No," Ben deadpanned, shooting her a glare, "We're not just leaving it like this, him like <em> this </em>."</p><p> </p><p>She scoffed, "What else are we supposed to do, Ben? As long as you don't say-"</p><p>"Allison, no, it's harder than it sounds! I just- I just don't think sometimes and it slips out. I have no filter; I've never really <em> needed </em>a filter when the only person who can hear me is my dumbass brother."</p><p> </p><p>"Just remind yourself to think, then-"</p><p>"I try! People always say things they don't mean in the heat of the moment! And it is all <em> literal</em>: the rumor doesn't know when I'm being sarcastic or just using a figure of speech!" </p><p> </p><p>His sister's lips rolled against each other before she said reluctantly, "So he spills some secrets sometimes... That’s not too serious…”</p><p>The ghost looked offended at that. How could she be so dismissive of the situation? Doesn’t she realize how <em>awful </em>this could be? How <em>awful </em>it already has been? </p><p>“This needs to be fixed,” he hissed venomously, “You <em>need to fix it. </em>”</p><p>She shook her head. “I’m sorry but <em> I don’t know how. </em>This is between you two.”</p><p> </p><p>Anger ignited within him once again, the smoldering fire that had sizzled down were now blazing flames gripping his chest as he yelled, “Don’t you dare say that it is between us; it has always been between <em>us </em>but you got involved and included yourself in the problem as soon as you uttered that god damn rumor! You caused the problem and now you <em> are </em>going to fix it!”</p><p> </p><p>“<em>I </em> caused the problem? <em> I did?!” </em> She nearly shrieked in disbelief, “Your <em>problem </em>runs a lot farther back than just my rumor, <em> Ben. </em> You guys have been at each other's throats long before I even got involved! And just because your relationship is <em>even worse </em>now, is not purely because of me! My rumor doesn’t <em> force </em> you to say things: you decided to boss him around all on your own!” </p><p> </p><p>“Allison, he stabbed his <em>own</em> <em>hand</em>,” Five sneered, furious that their sister wasn’t taking this situation nearly as seriously as she should.</p><p>“Because Ben told him to!”</p><p>“Klaus and I have a dark sense of humor; how was I supposed to know that some other force would be at play this time!”</p><p> </p><p>“Why would you even be joking around like that if he has a knife in his hand?” Diego asked, his voice a little softer than the other’s, “This is Klaus, dude; there’s a reason we don’t let him cook dinner.”</p><p>Ben scowled, seeing Diego shrink a little as he snaps his gaze to him. “Klaus is not an incompetent child; he grew up a long time before the rest of you. Don’t insult him like that.”</p><p>“I-”</p><p>The ghost already looked back at their sister, ready to continue his demands. “I can’t just keep myself from saying anything for the rest of his life and I can’t guarantee his safety by trying to censor every little thing that comes out of my mouth! I don’t want to exist like that! I don’t want him to live like that!”</p><p> </p><p>“You are being kind of dramatic, don’t you think?” Allison said exasperatedly, “I can’t fix this stupid rumor and I’m sorry that I acted without asking you first but this is not the end of the world.”</p><p>“At the moment, no, but it could be! It could be the end of <em> his </em>world!” Ben cried viciously, too blinded by his anger to hear the creaking of the front door, “What if I accidentally tell him to hurt himself?”</p><p>“You wouldn’t-”</p><p>“I never thought I’d make him confess to being raped twice in his life but I did!”</p><p>“What-”</p><p>“I’m a <em> danger to him! </em>”</p><p>“Ben, relax-”</p><p>“No! You don’t understand! I’m an idiot and I’m going to fuck something up!”</p><p>“Ben-”</p><p>“I already made him stab himself, spill hot coffee on himself! What’s next? You want me to yell something even worse?! What if I were to shout something with irreversible damage?! I might as well just say <em>go kill yourself </em> Klaus because your own fucking family doesn’t seem to think that your lack of free will is that big of a deal! Or, better yet, don’t let my words stop you Klaus because Allison seems to think that I’m not a human that can fuck things up even when <em> I’m about as alive as a doorknob!” </em></p><p> </p><p>There’s a crashing in the kitchen and immediately everyone in the room freezes. But Ben’s dead, there’s no reason to catch his breath or waste time processing so he goes barreling over the couch and sliding around the corner with wide fearful eyes.</p><p>He sees the cutlery block on the floor and Klaus pressed against the tile holding a large butcher’s knife, one hand trying to hold back the other that was inching closer to his throat. </p><p>Wheezing gasps were escaping the medium, arms shaking and glassy eyes looking simultaneously determined and terrified. </p><p> </p><p>Ben didn’t know what to do; he was freaking out, probably hyperventilating despite not even needing oxygen. He could try to wrestle the knife out of Klaus’s hands but then he’d just pick up another; he could try to call for their siblings but he knows that the corporeality connection was lost as soon as the medium called back all of his energy in an effort to fight himself.</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t!” Ben cried, “Stop! Klaus, please stop!” But he told him not to listen and the words fall on deaf ears and the knife isn’t stopping and he can’t believe that he has to watch this and <em> be </em> the reason that his brother dies. Not the drugs, not the cult, not some bad guys or sketchy friends or dangerous hook-ups; it will because of <em> him </em>, it will be because of some stupid ghost that put his own needs above the livings’, it will be because that said ghost was so busy yelling at everyone that he didn’t even hear the person he was fighting for come home. </p><p> </p><p>Those green teary eyes meet his own and time seems to come to a halt; he thinks dry sobs are escaping his mouth at the overwhelming confliction he’s feeling. But then the man’s lips part and Klaus croaks at barely above a whisper, “Ben, I’m sorry; <b>don’t stop me</b> , <em> please stop me</em>.”</p><p>Like the breaking of a spell, something snaps inside the ghost at his brother’s words and he goes diving forward without a second thought; no doubts, fear, or hesitation remained, just steely resolve that if Klaus can’t stop himself, then Ben will stop his body for him.</p><p> </p><p>There is a flash of blue light and the ghost disappears into his brother’s body just as their siblings come tumbling into the kitchen to see Klaus go catatonic and the large knife falls from his hands.</p><p> </p><p>Five jumps over to him frantically checking for injuries and Allison falls to her knees with a heart-shattering wail.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p>It is dark. It is unbelievably dark. He’s curled up in a ball and shivers wrack through his body. Where is he? What happened? Why do his cheeks feel wet like he is crying?</p><p> </p><p>The space feels tight and suffocating and just so very wrong because it all feels <em> familiar.  </em></p><p> </p><p>He doesn’t want to move, he doesn’t think he can. The silence is deafening until soft murmurs begin to assail his ears, the voices too muffled to make out exactly <em> who </em>they belonged to but he knows that he recognized them.</p><p> </p><p>He covers his ears. He weeps to himself. He feels smaller than usual; he feels little and scared and vulnerable. Where are the ghosts? The ghosts are coming for him. He’s going to die here; they are going to kill him. He wants out. He’ll be good, he promises. Dad, where is Dad? Please <em> let him out. </em></p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p>Ben feels different this time. Something is off and he knows it as soon as he takes over Klaus’s body.</p><p>He loses touch with his surroundings and has a sense that he is falling in too deep; beyond the surface, beyond the motor controls or external awareness, beyond the part of the brain he should be using and straight to the locked-down conscious of the man this body <em> should </em>belong to.</p><p> </p><p>Everything is black as the ghost finally feels something solid beneath him. It is dark and cold but still expressing the presence of Klaus that Ben just can’t shake. He’s not sure why he is in Klaus’s head, in his personal thoughts just like the one time he possessed Vanya but perhaps it’s because his brother’s body was already being controlled by the rumor before Ben even threw himself into the mix. Klaus was already battling his subconscious out of the spotlight and there wasn’t room for three in the one chair (Ben is praying that his intervention pushed all three of them out and not just Klaus. He prays that he didn’t just give the rumor an opportunity to end it all while the possession locked his brother up into his own head… No, he must not worry. He just has to find Klaus and fix this).</p><p> </p><p>He hears soft snivels, breathy and pitched like that of a child’s; curiously, Ben stands and stares off into the distance he sees nothing.</p><p> </p><p>He spins in a circle: this was definitely not like Vanya's. Everything was swallowed by an abyss that never seemed to end and there was no lit-up dining room persuading him to enter, there was no sign of his sibling and their problems calling for help.</p><p>It was just empty. Just dark. Just disconcerting as he listens to the echoing whimpers all around him.</p><p> </p><p>"Klaus?" He calls out, wandering forward without any idea of where exactly he was going. There's a choking sound and then silence. </p><p> </p><p>Warily, he continues, "...Klaus?" </p><p> </p><p>A whimper. Then a soft, "Leave me alone."</p><p>Oh, that sounded <em> wrong </em>. Who's voice is that? Why does it sound like a scared little kid? </p><p> </p><p>Either way, if he finds the kid maybe he can find Klaus (maybe the kid is Klaus?).</p><p>"Where are you?" He called out.</p><p> </p><p>"No," the voice sniffles, "I can't help you; leave me alone."</p><p>"Hey it's okay," Ben assures quickly, a protective instinct kicking in, "I don't need help. What about you? Are you okay?"</p><p> </p><p>It is quiet for a few moments, Ben hears a shuffling off to the right and his head whips in the direction as he hears a confused whisper of "You're not like the other ghosts, are you?"</p><p> </p><p>Ben is running in that direction now, knowing without a doubt that he <em> does </em>recognize that voice; he has heard it so many times before, a crying sibling coming home in the early hours of the morning and crawling up into the bed across from Ben's own thinking he was too deep in sleep to acknowledge it. </p><p> </p><p>"No, never, Klaus; I may lose my way sometimes but I will <em> always </em>come back to you," Ben swore as he saw a thick head of curls raise off the dark outline of a child's knees.</p><p>"B-Ben?"</p><p> </p><p>"I'm so, so sorry, Klaus," the ghost said hoarsely, falling down in front of the stupified form of his brother and drawing him into his chest, "For everything."</p><p> </p><p>Klaus was stiff and breathless in his arms, questioning softly, "This- This is my own thoughts, right? I'm just in m-my head?"</p><p>"Yes. You're not in the mausoleum, you're not in a closet and I'm… You're not alone."</p><p> </p><p>"Am I dead?"</p><p>"No."</p><p>"Did you possess me?"</p><p>"...Yes."</p><p>There's a deep exhale, sounding almost… relieved?</p><p> </p><p>"Thank you for saving me, I guess," Klaus murmured, his hands tightening around Ben's torso despite his reluctant tone.</p><p>Ben smiled slightly. "Of course. What kind of brother would I be if I let you die?"</p><p>"Again, you mean? Pretty shitty."</p><p> </p><p>He winced but replied, "Ok, yeah, I deserved that… Um…" he pulled away to look down at his (little) brother's face. Klaus's expression was hard to read but his eyes held an unwavering intensity like he was waiting for something. Ben knew that an apology and forgiveness weren’t going to happen in one conversation, nor did he assume that Klaus would forget about all the things that have occurred in the last couple of <em> years. </em> His brother may be dipsy at times but he wasn't <em> stupid </em> ; and he remembered <em> everything </em> even if he didn't always let it on. “I have been a pretty shitty brother, a very shitty brother… I never should have forced you to say those things, I never should have gotten mad every time I hurt you just because I thought that you didn’t have a <em> reason </em>to be hurt when I was suffering every day.”</p><p> </p><p>Klaus just blinked slowly.</p><p> </p><p>“Uh- I- I didn’t know about the rumor.  I-I swear I didn’t, I took advantage of it a few times out of my own selfishness but this was never some grand scheme against you. And the possession thing: I would have never possessed you again without you being ok with it,” he fumbled with his words as he realized his contradiction, “Well- wait- except for this time… This was to- to save you, you know?”</p><p> </p><p>“Hm.”</p><p>“And I didn’t mean to tell you to- uh- you know the thing from earlier..? I’m trying really hard to filter my words right now… Klaus, all of that stuff I said earlier you weren’t supposed to hear… I didn’t know you were home; if I did, I promise that I <em> never </em>would have said it.”</p><p> </p><p>The boy’s eyes narrowed but his lips remained sealed. </p><p>“I… haven’t been there for you; not all the time, not even most of the time. I’ve always thought about myself and I’ve never appreciated everything you’ve done for me… Even when I was an asshole, you still kept me around; you still cared.”</p><p> </p><p>“Mhm.”</p><p>“And when you were an asshole to me, I just did something even meaner back… without even thinking of <em> why </em>you were mad at me. I- I dismissed a lot of your problems.”</p><p> </p><p>Klaus tilted his head slightly.</p><p>Ben sighed, a frown on his lips. “For what it’s worth, I’m proud of… of how strong you’ve been these last couple of years even with all the- the malarkey that’s gone down. You have always been the one constant in my life whether I was breathing or not; I did need you.” A wry chuckle escapes him as he shakes his head sadly, “You surprisingly kept me sane.”</p><p> </p><p>He was becoming uncomfortable, not sure how much more of his heart he could pour out while Klaus just sits there staring at him with that blank face. Was he unamused? Was he assuming all this was a bunch of bullshit? Was he mad? Was he even listening?</p><p>The ghost huffed and looked down as his hands gripped his knees tightly. What was he expecting: Klaus to just accept everything he says and they’d be all good now? No, it was foolish; why would Klaus even want to be talking to him-</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry for almost banishing you.”</p><p>The child’s voice was only a mumble but Ben heard it loud and clear, looking up with forgiving eyes.</p><p>“No, don’t be. I deserved it.” He sees the flash in Klaus’s irises and curses to himself (he was doing so good too…) “Uh, my bad…”</p><p> </p><p>There’s a small smile from Klaus, it appearing familiar even on a face he hasn’t seen for more than twenty years. “This thing’s a real pain in the ass, hm?”</p><p> </p><p>An olive branch, a very typical Klaus olive branch: using humor or poking fun at something they both could agree on hating. A breathy laugh makes it past his lips, “Yeah, it really is.”</p><p>“Can Allison fix it?”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“Then what are we-”</p><p>“<em> I… I </em>will be fixing it.”</p><p> </p><p>Klaus’s stare becomes deadly serious again, mouth in a thin line. “No,” he mumbles, “No, I know that look; you’re going to do something stupid and-”</p><p>“Klaus,” Ben says sternly before his gaze softens again, “It’s not safe as long as I’m here.”</p><p>The medium shakes his head, “Yes it is, just tell me to stop doing everything you tell me to!”</p><p>“You know there could be a catch,” the ghost mumbles, giving a sad smile, “Besides, if I am here in your head… you know there’s no one to call me back out, right?”</p><p> </p><p>Olive orbs widen in realization, the boy frantically standing to his feet and pulling Ben up with him, “Then get out of here now! Leave before the light pulls you in! You fucking dumbass why are you even still here?!”</p><p>Ben sees his eyes beginning to water; the ghost ruffles his hair with a fond smile even as Klaus batts at his hands. “It’s too late to go now; I wanted to make sure that I got to say everything I wanted to before uttering goodbye.”</p><p> </p><p>Klaus scowls. “I hate goodbyes; see you laters are so much better.”</p><p>Ben nods his head. “I agree.” He can feel the light beginning to beckon, flecks of skin flaking off to reveal a blue glow and the particles swirling through the abyss-like darkness to wherever lost souls are supposed to go. </p><p>His brother swallows roughly and squeezes his hand. “But I don't want you to go. We can figure something out: we always do. Please don’t leave me; I don’t want to be alone.”</p><p> </p><p>“But you’re not alone,” Ben assured, “Our entire family is waiting for you.”</p><p>“<em>Benny</em>,” Klaus whimpered, “<em>Please-</em>”</p><p>“I wasn’t bitter about you calling me back.”</p><p>The medium’s brow furrows in confusion, “Huh?”</p><p>“When you first summoned me, at the- the funeral… I wasn’t stuck there because of you; I was, honestly, too scared to leave quite yet.”</p><p>Klaus lets out a watery snicker. “You little shit heel,” he grumbled with fond exasperation, “I thought all these years that I stole your ticket to heaven.”</p><p>“Nope, I just didn’t feel a need to go; not when my crazy brother could communicate with the dead,” he said with a smile, hand squeezing Klaus’s as he felt himself quickly fading.</p><p> </p><p>The boy stared at their hands for merely a second before engulfing his torso in another tight hug. Ben kneeled down to return it, feeling tears prick his own eyes. “Oh and the answer to your question a while ago is yes: I have lied to you recently.”</p><p> </p><p>Klaus only hummed in a sign for him to elaborate but the small hands holding onto his leather jacket clenched with new vigor. </p><p>“I don’t hate all of you, Klaus,” his form disperses, the boy’s grip slips and he chokes on a sob, “Even if I really wanted to, I never could.”</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p>“Would you like something else to eat, Klaus?”</p><p> </p><p>The man’s eyes widen as he shakes his head, “Oh no, no; I’m just peachy, Vanya.”</p><p>Diego frowned. “But you’ve barely touched your food.”</p><p> </p><p>Klaus and Luther exchanged a guilty glance before he met the inquisitive stares of their other siblings. “Well, I had sort of a big late lunch..?”</p><p> </p><p>“Lunch?” Five rose a brow, looking at Luther for an explanation. Their biggest brother sighed heavily, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>He mumbled very quietly, “We made cookies-”</p><p>“Cookies?! And you didn’t save a single one for me?” Diego cried in faux offense, gaze landing on Vanya for back up, “This is what we get for stocking up the pantries, huh? No respect.”</p><p>Their sister gave a frown but her irises were alight with playfulness, “Yeah, they did us dirty.”</p><p> </p><p>“We’re sorry,” Luther began but Klaus cut him off with a scoff.</p><p>“They were just so good,” the medium whined, “We followed Mom’s old recipe and they turned out relatively decent despite the both of us being known as the disasters at baking and we just couldn’t stop eating them.”</p><p> </p><p>Diego looked between his two brothers in a mirthful outrage, “No, not the chocolate chip ones?!”</p><p>They both nodded their heads, Luther a little more ashamed than Klaus.</p><p> </p><p>“Damnit; Mom made the best chocolate chip cookies, even I remember that,” Five muttered with a slight pout and Diego crumbled onto the tabletop dramatically.</p><p>“So not fair; what the fuck, Klaus, we used to be the ones to make those with her,” the knife-wielder complained, “I feel betrayed.”</p><p> </p><p>Klaus snorted, a smile gracing his features. “Oh my stars, I completely forgot about that! The even number club helping Mommy dearest make cookies in the kitchen in the wee hours of the morning; ah, good times.”</p><p>Diego perked up as he was hit with a memory, saying enthusiastically, “Shit you remember that one time when we tried making Russian tea cakes?” </p><p>The medium’s hand flies up as he immediately recalls the memory with excited eyes, “Yeah, yeah! And we needed the powdered sugar so we played rock paper scissors for who would get it from the pantry and Ben was too short to get a good grip on it,” his expression twisted to something a little more hesitant as he watched the mood dampen at the mention of Ben’s name, “And… it spilled… all over... him…”</p><p> </p><p>It was silent after he finished and he felt guilty for not thinking about how such a fond memory could ruin the still freshly recovering atmosphere his family breathed. It had only been two weeks, after all, since their ghost brother was last seen sitting with them at the same dinner table, sharing the same memories, enjoying the same company.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, um, Klaus?” </p><p>The man glanced up at Allison, still not really on speaking terms with her but he felt like it was decent enough to at least acknowledge her when she seeks him out (he knows how much it hurts to be ignored by your siblings and he wouldn’t want to wish that on another person even if they hurt him).</p><p> </p><p>Maybe none of them were perfect; maybe some had hit more bumps along the way.</p><p>But the thing about family is that nobody is expecting you to be flawless; they expect you to be <em> you. </em> And if being <em> you </em>causes some trouble along the way, then they’ll still be there to help you through it.</p><p> </p><p>Success doesn’t mean as much if everybody you could possibly share it with is far below you. Slow down, notice others; help them up when they fall. Join hands and face the world together one step at a time.</p><p> </p><p>And those who are hurt, have support to help them heal.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re not upsetting us by bringing up Ben, I just thought I’d let you know.” She gave him a worried smile.</p><p>“Yeah,” Luther agreed, nodding his head once, “We may not have as many memories of him or know as much about him but that doesn’t mean we wouldn’t like to hear about them from you.”</p><p> </p><p>The medium grins, a softness settling in his heart and green eyes probably a little glassy, as he says impishly, “Oh how wonderful because I’ve got <em> loads </em>of embarrassing stories to tell you; some featuring Di and Fivey too!”</p><p> </p><p>Ben was right: he isn't alone.</p><p>
  <strike> <strong>{&lt;^&gt;}</strong> </strike>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> You may fall, </em>
</p><p>
  <em> We all fall from time to time </em>
</p><p>
  <em> What matters is who helps us get back up and who to turns a blind eye </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> But worry not, smile with mirth </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Please don't ever forget your own worth </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Remember that, even when </em>
</p><p>
  <em> You feel lonely and lost without a friend, </em>
</p><p>
  <em> It is not the end, your limbs extend </em>
</p><p>
  <em> To the stars and mars </em>
</p><p>
  <em> With only your own happiness to defend </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Sometimes people lose sight </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Of what is wrong and what is right </em>
</p><p>
  <em> It happens to us all, it is common to fall </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Before we run we must learn to crawl </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Mistakes can be made </em>
</p><p>
  <em> It's a normal occurrence </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Wounds heal, scars fade </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Nobody is perfect: have some assurance </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Whether we go up one step or down another two, </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Remember that someone somewhere has messed up too </em>
</p><p>
  <em> You are not the crud on the bottom of one's shoe </em>
</p><p>
  <em> You're trying your best, be proud of you </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Whether you're a person, a bear, or a bee </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Don't let your failures keep you from being free </em>
</p><p>
  <em> With pain, we survive </em>
</p><p>
  <em> With time, we thrive </em>
</p><p>
  <em> And with that, how hard can it be </em>
</p><p>
  <em> To accept and to see </em>
</p><p>
  <em> That nobody is one stepper, nobody is a five stepper </em>
</p><p>
  <em> You're just you, and I'm just me.  </em>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>So this took wayyy longer than I expected... Writer's block hit me like a truck and this chapter just never seemed to end!</p><p>Anyways, thank you for reading and leaving such wonderful feedback! I love how engaged everyone was and willing to have actual conversations with me about particular sections of the story; it honestly means so much to me.</p><p>Unfortunately, I have gotten to the point where I have written 25 works in all for this fandom, only 4 of them being less than 2,000 words and at least 6 of them greater than the 12,000 range (3 were even more than 20,000!) So I guess the point I'm getting to here is that I've kind of burnt myself out. I wrote my very first fanfiction on here in March of last year so all 27 of the fanfictions I have written since were cranked out in less than a year's time and while I love writing very much (my wattpad account can serve as evidence for the last time I wrote so much for one series that I lost inspiration) I need a break. I still love umbrella academy, it is still my favorite show and Ben and Klaus are still my favorite boys but don't be surprised if some other fandom-related stories begin popping up. </p><p>I will be back! Just... after the creative flow returns. So author is taking a vacation from writing umbrella academy fanfiction for a bit. Love you all and I hope to hear from you in the future (also, just because I'm not writing them doesn't mean I won't be reading them;) &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>The irony of that title, am I right?</p></blockquote></div></div>
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